The Bleeding Effect
by Renzin
Summary: Giselle Kraus discovers she's a mutant, alongside her 'sister' Erin Howard. They are found by the Xmen and face the trials and tribulations all the other students do, however Giselle's at the disadvantage of having a dormant x gene. Why does she have a knack for boundless knowledge? Who is the one she senses but cannot see? And why is the metal giant guy so pissy?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Xmen, only my OCs

I got the idea after reading an illustrated version of Coppelia and consecutively watching X2, and as most fanfiction writers do, developed the urge to write a story vaguely based on the connecting stimuli I want to spent a lot of time developing my characters, so any romance and such may not appear for a while. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

"Fucking hell, why do you always paint Euro brats from civilisations that shitted in pots?"

"Is that a yes for darker ear shading then?"

"If you mean with a black magic marker, then yeah, go crazy." A raised eyebrow and shrug was Giselle's only response. Her weak reaction left Erin to continue to prod her further. "You couldn't for once paint something cool, like a tank or someone with tats. Dudes who died with flowers stuck to their chests aren't exactly interesting."

"This painting is a commission, so obviously someone does find it interesting; _sorry_ for not painting prostitutes with stretchers and snake bites." Erin narrowed her made up eyes at her sister's muted sarcasm.

"Well at least you read that encyclopaedia on piercings I got you. Though I was hoping you'd get the hint to realise you won't go to hell for getting anything other than your 'lopes done."

Giselle grimaced, turning back to work on adding her signature to her artwork. She had asked Erin to review a near complete oil painting of a man in a French revolutionary jacket, before the edges of the canvas were ready to be cleaned and the tape removed. Yet again, it was piece that would no doubt make a few hundred dollars, which would be safely deposited in her bank account. Of course, later she would pretend that it had sold online for a lower price, so Erin wouldn't rant at her for acting like a middle aged woman saving for her pension.

The older blonde would most likely prove her point by droning on about the latest mosh pit she had rocked at for the next long, one-sided conversation. Like all of the stories that Erin told Giselle, it would involve wild, inebriated stories of sneaking out and getting something unmentionable tattooed, pierced or exposed to a hopefully disease free partner. That's the sort of person Erin was; impulsive, aggressive, living by the mantra 'YOLO', no matter how much she said she hated 'fucking dickless hipsters'. Everything about her was a statement, a message or warning, depending on the receiver. The girl in question was extremely pale with brown freckles on her arms and nose, with a tiny frame that was made for wearing low rise jeans and cut up, tight band tops. Her hair, once a dirty yellow at birth, was now bleached and buzzed at the sides into a mullet, the front tipped black and long enough to tickle her plucked brows. She often wore dark makeup around her eyes, ignoring her lips due to her snake bites and habit of raping every male's mouth at a glance. Giselle thought that she was very Avril Lavigne-esk with her dark eyes, even if they did dull their blue hue; however she never mentioned this to Erin, because she would then go on about how the singer was a sell out, and so on.

Her interests lay in things that would give her instant pleasure, like (usually) soft drugs, nightclubs and riding her motorcycle. As far as Giselle knew, her aspirations ranged from becoming famous in a rock band to leading a citywide march against the anti _enter abused minority group here_, even going to space. However considering Erin once tried to literally stick a ruler down her old Physics teacher's throat for giving her detention, the final was unlikely.

Giselle on the other hand, was one of those girls who _'dabbled'_ in everything that was considered a fine art to know, and would be far more comfortable (in Erin's opinion) in the Georgian era somewhere in Surrey with a large family in an estate, not in the concrete apartment complex in New York, with foster parents and Erin. The blonde often criticized her 'sister's' appearance, which was too much like the Disney princesses she made an effort to sneer at. Giselle looked like one of the creamy portraits of royal princesses she painted, with dewy skin, full lips and a classic bone structure whose harshness was hidden by plump baby cheeks. Her hair was long and thick, curling in odd directions that would only vaguely be tamed if she slept with in a braid. Again, her figure contrasted Erin's model like structure, being far more voluptuous and preferring pretty dresses with lace and bows. Her eyes were the shape of almonds, passively blue, lighting up in the presence of a book rather than loud company; she used to be irritated by their ability to bled in with her face, as boys used to always talk about _Erin's_ sapphire gems when she was dating them, and Erin had at one point found amusement in telling her that her eyes were actually green, and that she was colour blind. While petty and obviously an attempt to rustle Giselle's usually well kept feathers, she disliked people making her doubt her perception of herself, when she spent so much time observing others. She was independent and had a knack for being knowledgeable on most things; people always were surprised by her deductions, enough to earn her a Sherlock birthday card a few years ago.

The two girls were technically sisters, though not by blood. Erin was 2 years older, with a chip on her shoulder and was constantly returning to their foster home after various events that lead her many ex-foster families scarred and slightly violated of their perception of 'innocent' children.

Giselle had barely spoken to her for many years at the foster home, only properly conversing with her when they both were sent to share the same foster parents, Jill and Thomas Stonewall, two Republican, rural New Jersey natives that worked at dull corporate firms. They were nice enough, strict and proper, though lacking the paternal instinct to make them beloved. The Stonewalls were a confusing mix between being reserved yet opinionated; Jill believed that she was indeed their mother, but would offer nothing but smile as long as they obeyed; she had a knack for aggravating Erin, which lead to loud, hysterical arguments. Thomas, on the other hand, rarely contributed to conversations or engagements, occasionally shutting everyone up with a cold command or glare; Erin spent many an hour insisting to Giselle that he was a misogynistic asshole who would sell his family if he needed to, and unfortunately Giselle had to agree with her. Thomas essentially creeped her out; he wasn't a pervert, or rude to them, or inappropriate in any way. The man simply radiated hostility, flashing red lights in Giselle's mind; unlike Erin, she resorted to avoid any unnecessary attention and concentrate on her duties as a highschooler.

At first, living together seemed like it would be the death of them all. The older of the two awoke the household everyday to a new prank, be it vomit in the kitchen from a late night out or the police knocking to tell the Stonewalls that 30oz of weed had been discovered in her locker at school. For the first 2 months, Erin ignored Giselle, only blaming her crimes on her when she needed to. That tactic didn't work so well though, especially when Giselle started writing a log of her day every hour with her doings, going into horribly uncharacteristic detail until Erin couldn't take anymore of her reciting each entry to her after dinner. In truth, Giselle had been surprised it had worked at all; she simply took the opportunity of the sudden immunity to form a truce of sorts with Erin and their foster parents, keeping interaction with them to a minimum. In all actuality, she had humbled Erin's original opinion of her as a push over. Giselle was quiet and innocent looking, and people tended to overlook her. Erin had soon learnt to be wary of Giselle's knack for knowing how to get under your skin if you attacked her. The Sherlock card that sat on her dresser was scarily accurate.

Giselle was an anomaly in the household. She mutely existed there, contributing nothing but pleasantries and submissiveness to Jill's control freak demands. All of her art equipment, books, clothes, ect. were from the money Giselle had made herself, usually from her artwork. Occasionally she busked, though she only did it a few times to break her guttural fear of crowds. New York was admittedly a fun place to be; everything you needed was in reach, apart from privacy. When she did leave her cocoon of a dwelling, she ventured to the deli across the street, the library or the dance studio she had been frequenting since she was 8; it was a joy for her that she had managed to keep it up, especially now that she had been _en pointe_ for over 2 years.

The only habit that she was scolded for by the Stonewalls was of picking the oddest places in the house to relax. Sometimes she read with a book, other times she would spend hours just thinking, occasionally with her logbook to write them down. Thomas had discovered this first, when he found her sitting in the crook of the staircase, staring at nothing, her eyes alight with the discovery of some unfathomable secret. He had nearly fallen over in the darkness with the hot soup he liked to have after Skype conference meetings in his study. Giselle had been told off after giving a weak explanation, and had reverted to going to the nearby park to sit under a tree, or by the duck pond with the lilies.

Erin didn't understand Giselle at all. At first she loathed her, with her irritating baby face and interest in everything that Erin thought boring; it was like she was created to oppose and reject her idea of what people should be like in the moving modern world. The brunette spoke softly, only bold with her words when she stated her opinions or rebuttals. She was like an itch you couldn't reach, couldn't forget. Erin wanted to scream at her to be fucking normal, to get pissed and not to be so interested in dead people from the past in her history books, like a normal teenager.

Eventually however, Erin learnt to live with Giselle. Her feelings were still there, but subdued. Oddly enough, Giselle actually noticed that Erin actively sought her out nowadays, interested in conversing, even if it did end with Giselle disagreeing with her entirely. That was the critical thing to Erin; she wasn't used to people disagreeing with her, especially someone her age. She had a hardcore reputation, always giving her opinion on every discrimination, pop culture, social happening, you name it. Perhaps that's why she didn't just pummel Giselle's face in (apart from the girl being 5'10). No one ever rained on her parade quite like her, with a solid argument and fireproof reasoning behind her conflicting opinion. It was like being in court with the devil. Because the _harmless_ Giselle spent her time learning everything she could, about people, places, academia, the arts, even social interaction and reading people's body language, though the last one she didn't mention often in an effort to not freak out the people she did converse with. She was the one you didn't notice, until it was too late. Erin's moto may have been a fucked up version of YOLO, but Giselle's was 'knowledge is power'.

It was November time when Giselle finally agreed to go to a nightclub with Erin. She wasn't sure why Erin asked her, considering that she spent her time complaining about her preferring Debussy to dubstep. Perhaps she liked her company? Now there's a laugh. Unfortunately, Giselle knew why _she_ agreed. Despite her rather cosy, lady like lifestyle, she had to admit that being a sexy girl in a hot, tight dress dancing the night away was a temptation. It was like forbidden fruit. It wasn't her style, she knew she'd never be that sort of girl, but she had to be able to know that from first hand experience. Every experience was useful, even if it would end up her with her dragging Erin's sorry butt home stinking of jagar bombs.

"Erin, is this ok?" Giselle cautiously walked into their shared room, clad in a pair of black leggings and a sparkling, modestly cut blouse.

"Holy fuck, you look like Whoopy from Sister Act! It's a nightclub, not a nunnery, ok?"

"I'd rather not look like I'm from a brothel. Wait, did you just reference a musical? That wasn't Rocky Horror?" Giselle's eyes widened in genuine surprise. She had been trying to convince Erin of the wonders of musicals for years, but was only ever met with comments that made Giselle question Erin's love of gays.

"I don't live in a cave, Jizz."

"Don't call me that, I'd rather not be associated with a man's bodily fluid."

"Just because you're too good for his shit."

"_Refrain_ from continuing this topic or I'll tell Thomas that we're not going to your friends house for the night, but to a haven of strobe lights and-"

"FINE BITCH"

"Giselle." 

"What?"

"I'm not a female dog, I'm your legal sister. A human by the name Giselle."

"Fuck you."

"No thank you, you're not even gay anyway." Erin scowled, taking a deep breath for assault.

"I told everyone ages ago, I'm bi, bitch. You're homophobic, aren't you?"

"Hardly. Who a person coerces for sexual pleasure with is none of my business. I however, know for a fact that you've only ever been with males, and the only girl crush you have is on Kate Moss."

"Fuck off! I know who I am, who I chose to fuck is my choice." Unfortunately, Giselle had learnt that Erin loved attention, and was one of those whiney teens that created their own drama to captivate their audiences. Erin chose to play to modern feminist (who always had a shag on the side), having been to a bunch of Gay Pride parades and protests in favour of mutants. She viciously forced her opinions down on others, ironically reminding Giselle of the stubborn republicans (like the Stonewalls) Erin hated so much. While Giselle had no qualms with mutants, black people, gay people, ect., she didn't broadcast it nation wide. In fact, she thought it rather low that Erin would be one of those hypocritical teens who faked being gay to gain a few prorights brownie points.

However, this was a conversation that had been frequented before, so Giselle ignored Erin's death glare and changed into another outfit. Eventually Erin inspected it, deemed it prudish and forced Giselle into a blue dress with rhinestone detailing. It was horribly short on her taller posture, but she soon stopped complaining when she noticed that she actually looked…rather hot actually. Her breasts and hips flared the dress over her in an out of fashion hourglass shape, and if she left her hair down in its brown curtain, she looked…wild? She shouldn't be described like that, but that was how she felt. Either way, she could still hide behind her locks if need be. The dress really was short though; it looked like it would ride up to her waist like a rubber band…

Her resolve to change again was cracked when Erin snorted and told her she looked fat. Giselle knew she was lying from the fidgeting fingers and pursed lips of jealousy Erin sported, which fuelled her usually monotone ego enough to give a sarcastic thank you and find a matching winter coat. So she looked nice in something other than egg blue sundresses. She could get used to this. As long as she remembered to pull her dress down every few steps, walk in a straight line with her ominous heels like Erin had told her to, and make sure no one spiked her drink, she would be fine. Giselle was smart. She listened attentively in all of the Personal and Social Learning lectures about substance abuse and birth control at school, even though she had to agree with Erin that she wasn't losing her virginity anytime soon. Maybe after uni, time of to travel, attaining a job… At this point she was mildly worried about being a 40 year old virgin.

The girls didn't need to get a taxi, as a bunch of Erin's friends drove up at 10 to pick them up. The car was hot with Velcro carpeting, and Giselle was wedged in the middle of Joe, lizzie and Dan, who were already high and ignoring her in favour of disgussing the nightclub they were going to. Apparently it wasn't the greatest of places, Giselle gathered. It seem to be known for being the crime scene of a few courtcases that had appeared in the newspaper, though that only seemed to excite Erin's friends even more.

When they drove up to the club, Giselle also noted from the small talk with the bouncer, that they were regulars. They did have to wait in line, but only for 5 or so minutes.

Inside, pulsing lights illuminated the throbbing dancing of tightly clothed bodies, gyrating against each other in time with the music, so loud that Giselle couldn't work out the pitch of it, but instead could feel the vibrations of the bass from the speakers. She was pulled to the bar, refused to dance and was left their with a barely alcoholic beverage while the others disappeared from view. She awkwardly pulled down the helm of her dress again, wanting nothing but to find a way out. Her head hurt from the stink of sweat and spirits, and she hated the self-loathing, which she wasn't well acquainted with, showing up. She was naïve, she could see that now; to think that she'd be able to just turn up in a tight dress, with enough confidence to dance like J-Lo and be the desire of every guy here. Even the bartender was ignoring her but for the look of pity he shot at her. Giselle was glued to her barstool, legs crossed and watching the dance floor, internally arguing with herself on what to do. Eventually she took to her favourite habit of watching people, make notes of their body language; in the tightly packed, hormonal crowd, the usual signs of sexual interest and rejection were amplified.

Possibly an hour passed, before Giselle decided that the night, while an experience she knew she was intrigued by, was now fruitless. She couldn't hide at the bar any longer, envying the girls who were condiment enough to assert themselves in the club. She wasn't sure whether Erin was even here or not, but knew she could make her own way back; after all, she never seemed to have a problem sneaking back home on her own before.

Giselle on the other hand, wasn't even sure where in New York they were, and was quite frankly terrified of walking home alone in the dark. She was fairly sporty, but only really at dance. The only remotely aggressive hobby she had was Judo classes, but that was when she was in Elementary school. She sat there for another few minutes, panicking at what to do, when she saw Erin molesting someone with her tongue against a wall close by.

Up close, Giselle realised that her partner was Dan, his ginger hair slicked down by sweat and saliva. Not one for public displays of affection, Giselle yelled Erin's name a few times, before 'gently' pushing Dan and pulling Erin away to the exit.

"What the fuck? You just cost me-"

"A night in bed with someone you won't remember tomorrow, the lost is tragic! Look Erin, I want to go home, and I don't know where that is exactly." Finally they made in outside, Giselle practically gasping as her sense of hearing returned to her. The freezing night air assaulted her body, asserting her into her usually level headedness. Erin on the other hand…

"Seriously?" She slurred, "why don't you go back and get some action, loosen that tight ass of yours?"

"Erin, _please._ I'm tired, cold and I want to go home. You know I can't go by myself, and you've drunk too much anyway, I can't leave you alone."

Erin pulled out a chipped nail venomously. "Listen you frigid-"

But she never got to finish her insult, as a man slung a heavy arm around her, licked her earlobe, and whispered something that caught Erin's feral attention. She forgot me a wrapped herself around the man, only to recoil when the state of his inebriation was obvious. Giselle saw that he was a good deal older than them, rough looking, and leaning on Erin for support. She was a tiny bit surprised when even Erin realised that the man was being a bit to handsy, and tried pulling him off. He growled at her, muttering things he wanted to do to her, until Giselle thrust the brute of her weight into a charge that caused him to let go and stagger back a few steps.

Giselle felt the blood drain from her face when the man turned on her with wild eyes and backhanded her. She fell to the floor and her eyes sting with shame and shock. She had to get up, do something before he ran off with Erin. Giselle pulled herself from the ground. She was already noting that a double blow to his temples and groin (like she was taught at Judo) would incapacitate him enough to grab Erin and run, when she heard the man's gargled scream. Erin's hands were thrust in his face, and sickly green mist covering them and the man's head. The blonde herself was screaming in attack, like a crazed animal. The man jerked and huge boils erupted all over him, his breathing hitching and heavy, until Erin ripped her hands away and he slumped to the floor with a groan.

Screaming from the people outside the club pulled Erin out of her trance. She ran past Giselle, pulling her by the wrist and hurtling away from the crowd that was forming around the body of their attacker. They could here shouts from the pursuers, but still ran, pumped by their fear induced adrenaline rush for another few blocks after they were no longer being followed. Erin pulled them in front of a slowing taxi, which beeped at them angrily and only calmed when Erin and Giselle entered it. The cab ride home was void of conversation. Giselle could barely concentrate on what happened, and the driver seemed to sense from their heavy breathing and terrified faces not to ask.

Erin was… a mutant? Did she already know, Giselle mused. No, she was in shock as well, still blankly staring in front of them. What had she done? Green smoke, sizzling flesh and moaning. Had she burnt him? It was almost like…

**A sickness. **

Yes that was it! Giselle was certain of it know the thought had come. The man had obtained angry welts and boils, like some sort of violent plague when Erin touched him. It was in the air as well, that stinking sense of dread that hung around dying people and slums.

Erin threw the driver his money and scrambled after Giselle onto the pavement outside their apartment complex. Both girls looked around them with worry, as if the whole world knew about what had just happened. Erin cursed when her shaking hands fumbled with the keys, and shook so much that she didn't even acknowledge Giselle when she took the keys herself and open the door. She locked all the locks on the door and made her way to their room, thankful that the Stonewalls were out at a company dinner. They made their way through the apartment in the darkness.

Giselle found her bed and fell into it. "Oh god…" She tried to steady her breathing, hand on chest. "Erin…"

Silence. Then the lights suddenly were flicked on, revealing the distressed mutant in the doorway. She wasn't looking at Giselle, her face hidden down from view. Her voice was rough and… threatening. "_What._"

"Are you ok?"

The blonde's head snapped up, her gaze making Giselle flinch. "What the fuck do you think?"

Giselle couldn't find the words to answer. She just shook her head in fatigue, proceeding to pull off her clothes and walk into their shared bathroom. Usually she was sensitive about her modesty, but never particularly bothered with Erin if she walked in by accident while she changed. However know all she could think about was how dirty she felt. Giselle wordlessly made her way to the shower, shuddering when the water hit her skin. Through the lime scale on the glass, she could make out Erin's form in front of her.

Neither of them said a word for a long time.

Giselle got out, dried herself off and sandwiched herself under the pink covers of her welcoming bed. She heard Erin splash water on her face, emerging with a cloth to aggressively rub off her makeup. Instead of making her own way to bed, she looked at Giselle, long and hard. Both of their poker faces were like steel.

Giselle's eyes followed Erin's as she made her way towards the bed and knelt in front of Giselle's head, so that they were eye to eye, only inches apart. The smell of soap battled against the odour of alcohol and damp clothing from Erin.

"What will you do Giselle?"

"Nothing."

"…nothing?"

"Did you expect me to burn you at the stake?"

A snort. That was good. Humour was the way to tame Erin, as long as it wasn't too obviously in her expense. Giselle continued onwards, her voice soft and controlled. "Was that the first time?"

"Kind of." Neither of them said anything, until Erin shifted on her knees and broke the silence again. "A little while ago, this homo with some freaky skin disease grabbed my arm, and I just…absorbed it."

"You cured him? Like a healer?"

"No."

"Tell me more."

"Why fuck should I?"

Giselle supressed the urge to roll her eyes. "What possible harm could it do?"

"You could call the police, or tell the foster fuckers."

"And what would be the point in that? I have no qualms with mutants, you know that. I'm just curious; if you didn't heal him, then…?"

"It didn't go away, the disease he had, I kinda..It stayed inside of me, like I was keeping a record of it. I was so freaked out, I just ran home and nothing happened again until a week ago."

"Did you absorb another illness?" Giselle shifted to sit up, so that Erin knew she had my undivided attention; Giselle knew that this was one of those times Erin just needed to talk about and for her to give comfort, even if she did bite the hand of the one feeding her afterwards.

"Yeah. This kid at school, you know Robert McGuiness in your year, he was going home after chunning up in class. I was walking past him when he was leaving the school gates, and bumped his shoulder, then that green fog appeared, and he was fine."

"He didn't see what you did, did he?"

"No, I just kept walking like nothing happened. He didn't notice anything other than suddenly feeling better."

"So tonight….you transferred a disease. Was it the one the homeless man had? Was his that fierce?"

"…I don't…No. I mean, yes."

"Have you collected a mental disease as well? Be clear, Erin."

She snarled at Giselle, who in turn simply quirked an eyebrow in tentative amusement. "Do you want me to tell you or not?" Erin continued when she said nothing more. "It was like I chose that particular disease, instead of Robert's vomiting. But it wasn't like that with the homeless dude. It was like I sped up the process."

"And made it more vicious."

"Yeah."

Giselle lay back down, still facing Erin. "Are you…"

"I don't regret it. That fucker was gonna rape me if I said no."

"Fair enough."

"Are you gonna tell anyone?"

"It is not my place to say."

Erin snorted weakly. "For once I'm not irritated at the Mary Poppins manners."

"I suppose I should be grateful." Giselle quietly observed Erin for a moment, before slowly tucking a strand of her overgrown mullet back. The blonde merely watched her warily, accepting her mute reassurance of their truce. "Please don't hurt people when they don't deserve it, Erin."

Erin didn't say anything back. She waited for Giselle to close her drooping eyes, then made her way to her own bed, tucking the offending spandex dress under to hide from Jill and Thomas.

Giselle suspected that they would turn up. She had heard about a group of mutants who worked for their rights alongside humans under a Professor Charles Xavier. She had read a paper of his on the mind-set of sociopaths, though admittedly understood it only partially, and had seen an advert for him to appear on TV to talk about mutant rights and such. She learnt from a google search that many people either blamed or thanked this group of _vigilanties_ for stopping the odd thunderstorm at the statue of liberty a few months ago.

According to wiki, the Professor lived in a large mansion outside the city, the headmaster and guardian to children a range of ages at the 'Xavier Institute For Gifted Children'. A few online journalists were speculating about the whether it was an actual school or not, especially since no one who worked there would speak to the press at all. There was a high security wall around it, with acres of land between that and the main building, along with the large foliage of forest trees.

The seclusion of the school struck Giselle. '_Gifted children'_. A school run by a telepath, safe from the press and anti mutant rioters. They all spelt it out to Giselle.

It was a school for mutants.

Could they sense Erin's awakened X gene? Giselle wouldn't put it past them, in fact she was certain that there would be a knock at the door from them any day.

She was right as usual.

It was two days later, on a Sunday afternoon when Jill Stonewall opened the door to a bald man in a wheelchair and a young man with red hued glasses. Being a follower of the anti mutant FoH with Thomas, she recognised Charles Xavier almost instantly, and started hysterically calling for Thomas to get rid of them.

Erin and Giselle were in the kitchen when they heard Thomas's raised voice and another male one trying to sooth him, obviously unsuccessfully. After a lot of muffled bantering, the door to the kitchen opened and let in their visitors and the Stonewalls.

Thomas's gaze shocked Giselle, the sheer ferocity that bubbled when he looked at Erin. "_You._ I knew you were trouble, how could we have been so stupid to think that this wasn't the reason."

"Nooooo, it couldn't have been the fact that I like fucking around to piss you off." Erin snarled back.

Jill let out a squeal at the profanity. "Giselle, honey, get away from her! These people will take her far away from here, don't worry."

Giselle usually mellow expression hardened at Jill's words. She straightened at Erin's side, replying with a stony tone that shocked everyone with its hostility. "The Insitute is merely an few hour's drive away. I would spare the dramatics for the theatre, and the insults for those with reason to administer it."

A tumbleweed would have been fitting for the scene. The shattered glass of the Stonewall's perception of Giselle was hard not to tread on.

"You have been abetting this scum?" Thomas accused.

"Watch your fucking mouth you piece of shit!" Erin roared. She lunged at them, but was grabbed around the waist by the man with red glasses and held back. Erin struggled and screamed for a few seconds before stopping, with wide eyes noticing that Thomas and Jill had stopped moving, along with the ticking of the oven clock and whooshing sound from the open window. The man in the wheelchair rolled forwards a little, with a kindly smile as the other let go of Erin and stood back at his side. Giselle all the while at been as still as a statue, but she proved she was still animate by asking "Was that you, Professor?"

The man in the wheelchair smiled a little more, and nodded. "You are very sharp, my dear. I fear it would be to leave before the authorities are needed."

"Sorry but who are you and how do you know Giselle?" Erin said in an angry tone, still panting from her charge.

"My name is Charles Xavier, and this is Scott Summers, a member of staff at my school. We are mutants, and are here to provide sanctuary to those who need it. Your powers were activated recently Miss Howard, yes? An ability involving the harvesting and administering of ailments. As for how Miss Kraus is aware of us, I believe that is down to detective work and deduction. Sherlock indeed"

Giselle smiled, pride and ego filling with the words of THE Charles Xavier, mutant genius. She wasn't even miffed that he must have read her mind to find that out. "Thank you Professor." She turned to Erin to explain. "Erin, they're not enemies, if I'm correct, they want you to join their school for mutants. You'll be safe, with other children like you. You need to pack and leave as soon as possible. Could you wipe their memories, Professor? Only of this meeting, of course. I don't want to have to verbally duel later on mutant and human rights."

"Fucking republicans." Erin snorted.

Scott Summers spoke for the first time to them. "That's probably a good course of action, however I don't think the Professor will need to wipe their memories of this meeting."

"Perhaps simply make them cooperative on not making a fuss with the authorities, yes." Xavier said.

Giselle furrowed her brow. "I don't understand. Do you want me to have to deal with the aftermath after you leave? They think me a traitor."

"You misunderstand me, my dear. We would like you to join us as well."

It was Erin's turn to answer. "But she's not a mutant!"

"Really? Well must have the wrong Giselle Kraus of New York." Scott said with a contagious smirk. "You're one of us, Giselle."

"I have no abnormal abilities that I know of."

Erin scoffed. "Dude, apart from your ability to be the master of _everything_!"

"I highly doubt that's anything other than the fact that I actually work, Erin." Giselle retorted. "Wait…did you just pay me a compliment?" 

"Meh, you deserved it."

"For…?"

"Standing with me and not Jack 'n' Jill over there." She gestured to the frozen figures.

"Your welcome, then." Giselle turned back to their saviours. "Are you sure I am a mutant? I understand that my genes could be dormant, but then how did – ahh, you did not know about me."

Xavier's eyes twinkled at her quick wit, agreeing with a telepathic thought from Scott. _'She's pretty smart for her age!'_

'_Indeed, it is likely that her mutation will involve the mind rather than the physical body.' _

"Correct again Giselle." He explained for Erin's benefit. "I only sensed your dormant X gene when in your close presence, and even then only because it is close to becoming active. There is little for you here now I think. We can have you settled in by the evening, and you will be safe with people like us, like you said, Giselle."

Giselle was dumbfounded. Her, a mutant! She had been indifferent to them before, but know she knew she was one, she felt…brilliant! She was like a superhero (minus the powers)! Technically, she had the ability to have powers that at the moment were just a little _shy_. It was odd for her to feel so giddy, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Erin was shocked when the Professor said Giselle was a mutant as well, but then it made sense, considering how clever she was. Maybe she sucked knowledge out of others, like Erin did with diseases?

Giselle released a childish grin. "Well, what are we waiting for then?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Giselle wasn't used to being somewhere so welcoming. Sure, she was used to moving around so much so that she could make herself comfortable in most places, but in her new room at the Xmen mansion, she was more at peace than usual. Maybe it was the knowledge that this place was a happy home and sanctuary to so many other mutants, or the absence of having to watch herself around the Stonewalls, she wasn't sure.

The room that would be her den for the next few years was shared with a bubbly petite girl called Kitty Pryde, who ran _through the wall_ to attack Giselle with an excited hug on her arrival. She was extremely talkative and girly, which Giselle liked, after being used to living with Erin's anti-Barbie colours lifestyle. Kitty didn't call her summer dress 'ugly' or 'granny swag', but instead proclaimed that she loved it, and convinced Giselle to let her borrow it later.

While Giselle wasn't used to being around girls as feminine as her, she wasn't going to complain. She really enjoyed spending time with Kitty, realising that she was very easy to talk to. She helped unpack her stuff, taking dips on various clothes and amusing Giselle greatly when she took out her volume of The Happy Prince and read it with a pompous British accent.

The room itself was a faded cream colour, with a white skirting board and an en suite bathroom that connected with another girl's dorm room on the other side, which according to Kitty, belonged to her friends Rogue and Jubilee. Their beds were slid against opposite walls, with matching rose wood dressers and desks. Shelves lined the walls, high and out of the way. There two identical double doored wardrobes, and a low sofa covered with fluffy beanbags and cushions resided underneath the large open window, providing the room with light air and a view of the well-kept gardens below.

Giselle and Kitty spent a good few hours talking, with the former making her side of the room more at home, while the latter lounged on the dotted rug in the centre of the room with a copy of Cosmo on her lap.

"Favourite colour?" Kitty quizzed.

"Don't have one. Possibly pale blue, or a yellowing gold. Yours?"

"Pinkkkkkkk duh! What do you take me for, 'Elle?" Kitty had taken to nicknaming Giselle as 'Elle', rather than the crude 'Jizz' Erin had administered before. 'Elle' actually liked it, especially since it wasn't in anyway an insult.

"Ha, how could I have not noticed? You have, what 5 pink heart pillows over there?"

"I'm girly an' I'm proud!" Kitty clicked her finger with a wiggle. "Okkkkk….OH! Favourite artist!"

"Tie between Helguera, Monet and Michelangelo."

"Waddawhooooooo? Wait not like _art art_, like art _music!_"

"Ohh, right! Um possible Vivaldi."

"Babe, what is it with you and dead people?"

Giselle flushed a little, with an embarrassed grin. "I'm kind of a history dork. Modern stuff doesn't sit well with my eardrums."

"Not even Busted?!" Kitty said horrified. Her eyes flicked to their poster above her desk anxiously.

"Actually I don't mind them."

"Oh crackers thank god! What's the most modern music you listen to then?"

Kitty couldn't help but burst into giggles when Giselle took over a minute to answer. "Jeff Buckley? I can also appreciate ACDC."

"Who? WAIT YOU LIKE ROCK WHATTTT?"

Giselle raised her hands in defence. "Yes, yes ok! I have odd music taste, I'm weird I know!"

"You don't like jazz, do you?"

"…Maybe." Kitty groaned. "I used to busk Etta James at the Subway by that giant Taco Bell in Central."

"You sing as well? That is sooo cool! Rogue's really good at poppy songs, but she's like reallllly shy, she made us pinkie swear not to tell her boyfriend Bobby."

"Boyfriend? I thought you said she couldn't touch anyone?"

"I know, they can't touch bare skin, which is really sad. She can kill humans, and sucks a mutants power temporarily; she had to run away after she accidently killed her human boyfriend, then was picked up by Mr Logan and brought here a while ago."

"That is so tragic. Bobby must be really lovely to care enough to be with her."

"God, Bobby is the sweetest guy ever! He's like totally in love."

"Tell me about Jubilee and the other kids."

"Well, Jubilee awesome, like _meeeeeeee_!" Giselle took that to mean hyper as well, "and she can shoot fireworks out of her hands, hence the name. There's also Peter, John, Sal, Emily…"

The list went on for a long, long time. Giselle interrupted Kitty with wide eyes. "How many kids are there?"

"Like 80, I think."

"And they're all our age?"

"Oh my god no! Peter, Bobby, Evan and John are the only boys our age. They're a few kids like 12-14, which the oldest apart from us. Then the girls are Rogue, Jubilee, us and then the other girl you came with."

"Erin Howard, we were in the same foster family."

"Ohhhhh, so you're like sisters? What she like?"

"Not at all. We're nothing alike, more like…allies, with a mutual understanding."

"Wowww…that's like, cold. Is she a bitch?" Kitty mused with a cocked head and pouting, glossy lips.

"That's an accurate description, though she calls me the same." Giselle laughed.

"You, a bitch? You look like a baby with growth spurt! You have chubby cheeks!" Kitty squeezed Giselle's cheeks for emphasis, laughing when she was swiped away.

"May I say, ouch?"

"Awwwwwwwwwww you baby!" Giselle threw a fluffy pink pillow at Kitty. "Hey!" Whinnie The Poor was hurled back in response.

"I'll take that as a challenge!"

And so began the pillow war that left both girls panting between giggles. Kitty groaned, stretching like a cat on the floor, while Giselle pulled her arms behind her with a soothing click. She got up and put away the cushions, fluffing them, then nudged Kitty to let her straighten the rug. "Neat freak?"

"I nearly had a coronary when I saw the inside of your closet."

Kitty laughed, jumping up and opening the door of said wardrobe to pull at the bobble of her ponytail in the mirror. After reapplying a cherry lip balm and smacking her lips, she said, "So what's yours and Erin's mutation? You know mine." For demonstration, she walked through the door, kicking it closed behind her with a cheeky grin.

"Well Erin can absorb someone's illness, and administer the illness to someone else, though she never suffers any symptoms herself. I believe that she can catalogue a number of diseases inside of her at one time, choosing which one to pass on by touch."

'Jeez that's creepy!"

"You're telling me. She saved us from a rather lecherous man outside a nightclub a few days ago."

Kitty raised an eyebrow. "You, at a nightclub?"

"Erin dragged me along. I was as ill of ease as you would imagine me to be."

"Man, I wish I could've seen you! Sooooo?"

"What?" Giselle said, faking her confusion.

"What's your mutant power! You don't have corrosive snot or something, right?"

"Goodness no!" Giselle cringed at her expansive imagination, "I err…don't have one."

Kitty's jaw dropped. "WOW! You're human? Why are you here then?"

"It's not like that. My X gene is still dormant, the Professor only sensed I was a mutant when he went to visit Erin."

"Dude, that sucks."

"Tell me about it."

"Do you have any idea what its gonna be?"

Giselle brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and licked her lower lip, capturing he tongue with her teeth. "Possibly something creative, I paint a lot and play piano. I doubt it would be anything physical."

"Totally getcha. My power's all about being sneaky, not being a badass in a fight. Maybe you're like, uber intelligent?"

"You flatter me." Giselle said with a mock swoon.

"Elle, no offence, but it's obvious you're a smartass."

"Why thank you." Kitty groaned at her modesty. "That would make sense though, I write a lot of notes about everything."

"Everything? Like what?"

Giselle fished out a moleskin black book from her desk, flicking through the pages for Kitty to look at. Some held sketches in charcoal or pencil of body parts, buildings, flowers; others had logs of people she observed, complete with their information, the unique ways they fidgeted, or accounts of conversations between strangers Giselle had observed; a few pages started with a philosophical or scientific question, with on answer that would be scribbled afterwards with after thoughts and opinions. Odd stamps and pictures were stuck in, even a delicate gold leaf, isolated in a plastic sleeve on its own at the back. More notebooks filled an entire row of a shelf above Giselle's bed, quietly huddled together with weathered leather spines of rustic shades similar to coloured bottles or mottled wine.

"I don't know whether this is creepy or a sign that you're Leonardo da Vinci reborn..."

"I prefer the latter observation." Kitty snorted.

"Maybe that's your power!"

"Being creepy? I think that's Erin's, not mine."

"Nah, I mean like, liking and knowing about everything. Like, you're the one to go to when you wanna know about some random lost city in Egypt of whatever."

"I…wouldn't be upset with that, actually. That would be _brilliant_!" Giselle said with enthusiasm. It would make sense, her thirst for knowledge. She supposed she was similar to an olden day scholar. Maybe her brain could hold more information?

**You know things you shouldn't**.

That was true. Sometimes she could deduct odd facts about a person by looking at their clothing, mannerisms or their expressions; she only ever mentioned it in vague detail to Erin, though when she was younger, the other children at the foster home found it unnerving, and wouldn't trust her. She didn't know then that it was odd that at the age of 8 to know that one of the older boys actually did ballet. She knew this because he was too stiff with hunched shoulders, as if he was forcing it to hide a well-trained high posture, and that the white powder that looked illegal under his nose and on his sleeves was actually talcum powder, which he had put there on purpose, to look cool. Giselle learnt to be careful with this instinctual knowledge she seemed to have, after the boy threw her clothes into the mud as revenge when someone read her notes and spread the word about him on the matter. She also learnt to never leave her notebooks unattended after that.

Giselle met Rogue and Jubilee when Kitty lead them through the shared bathroom straight into their room, which was a mirror image of their own; Jubilee's side was much like Kitty's with boundless colour and magazines lying around, while Rogue's was neat and minimal like Giselle's, apart from the black décor and band posters.

Jubilee spoke so much that even Kitty told her to 'chill' at one point. She was like a kid who had had too much caffeine, extremely sarcastic and constantly moving around, the braids at the bottom of her hot pink T-shirt swinging with every move. Her hair was wildly spiked around a thick headband and pushed up red glasses, its blackness reflected in the shiny yellow, popped up collar of her trench coat. When she saw Giselle, she squealed and propelled herself from the floor with a burst of energy from her hands, using the momentum to grab her in a painful hug.

Rogue, on the other hand, was in black sweatpants and a long sleeved thermal top with a high neckline tucked under a thin choker; Her long auburn hair was tied back, with her white fringe loose and tickling the rim of her warm, green eyes. Her face was to the side and her expression shy. After Jubilee and Giselle were finished being introduced, Rogue offered her a gloved hand and her name.

"Rogue, nice ta' meet cha'."

"Giselle, likewise." She said with a smile. "I hope that everyone's as nice as you guys are!"

"Y'all be fine, just ignore John an' avoid that new girl, an' you'll be fine." Rogue drawled, her accent punctuating her irritation at the people she mentioned."

Giselle cringed. "The new girl isn't Erin Howard, is it?"

Jubilee groaned, showing her dislike for Erin as well. "You know her? God I pity you. We met her with John and Bobby a minute ago, lemmie just say -_biatchhh_."

"Err, guys that's Giselle's foster sister." Kitty stage whispered. Everyone paused in embarrassment waiting for Giselle's reaction.

Giselle just shrugged knowingly. "She likes to establish her reputation harshly with new people, I would ignore her, it's what I do."

Rogue and Jubilee smiled, happy to have not alienated her. "Y'all ain't close?"

"Not particularly, we had the same foster parents for a little over 2 years. We tolerate each other and she's only vaguely pleasant to me because she's used to me. What's wrong with John?"

"Well, Erin seems to be his female doppelganger," Jubilee growled, "He's a real jerk, I don't know why Bobby and you are friends with him, Rogue."

"I'm only friends with him 'cause ah' Bobby!" The southerner replied.

"Point is, Elle, ignore anything he says outta that stupid mouth of his, 'kay?" Kitty said.

"I'll make a note of that." This caused Kitty to snort at the memory of Giselle's archive of notebooks. She showed the other two girls this back in their room, laughing at their shocked reactions. They talked for a while there, getting to know each other further.

Giselle learnt that Rogue was extremely compassionate and calm, like her. The natural state of her face was always an expression of kindness, and she was an open book, every emotion flitting across her face opaquely. Giselle took great interest in seeing this, and was drawn to the girl because she was soft, like her. Neither of their movements was sudden, but delicate. Rogue had apparently obtained the white streak in her hair from the mysterious lightening storm at the statue of liberty, which was actually an attempt from a mutant called Magneto to turn all the humans into mutants, and involved capturing Rogue and manipulating her ability. At the mention of this, Rogue shuddered a little, but gave Giselle a surprised smile when she gave her a quick hug.

Scott had picked up Jubilee from her foster parents, like Giselle. She demonstrated her finesse at acrobatics, by doing flips up and down the room, narrowly missing the lights. Like Kitty, she was appalled by Giselle's music taste, and looked like she was about to faint when Giselle told her she didn't like mayonnaise. According to Kitty, she had a fetish for eating mayonnaise and plum jam sandwiches.

After learning that, Giselle felt a little sick.

Ironically, they decided to go to the kitchens for food. They trooped through the mansion, Giselle occasionally pausing to scribble on the map Scott had given her earlier.

The kitchen itself was a huge room, due to the fact that it was attached to the common room. There were multiple copies of each appliance, with fridges overflowing with glorious sustenance. Kitty warned her to never eat food with someone else's name on, especially not her pancakes. The adorably serious expression she wore caused them all to burst out laughing at her, much to her dismay.

The common room was cosy, which Giselle didn't expect, considering its size. There were several large armchairs and sofas, all arranged either around the TV or the roaring fireplace. A pool table was to one corner, and a dartboard hung at the other end. The wall with the TV was lined with long windows, mostly hidden by thick maroon curtains, though it was dark enough by now to not make much of a difference. Apparently most of the younger students relaxed in another common room closer to their dorms, so the only people who ever came here were them, the adults and whoever was on dinner duty to cook.

Giselle was nibbling on a cheese bagel she had warmed in the microwave when other people came to join them. Rogue, Kitty, Jubilee and herself were wedged together on a 3-seater sofa, watching Independence Day when 3 boys came in.

The first was a blue-eyed Caucasian, tanned with honey blonde hair. He immediately gave Rogue a cute smile, who got up to sit with him in another armchair. He must be Bobby then.

The next was a darker boy with a brow piercing and dyed blonde hair with the sides buzzed. His white beater could be viewed under his open red jumper, the front tucked into the belt of his low, baggy brown shorts. His slightly coloured face told Giselle that he had been engaging in a physical activity, possibly skate boarder, or cycling, she guessed. There were tell tail indents on the skin under his chin, knees and elbows, signifying that he had been wearing pads and a helmet. His thick high tops however were too bulky for a cyclist, and so was his build, which was too stocky. Any serious cyclist would wear correct shoes if they were dedicated enough to were padded protection, and would be a lot leaner as well, Giselle reasoned. He threw them a friendly grin, disappearing behind them to return with a coke from the fridge and made himself at home on the floor at Jubilee's feet. She gave him a playful pat on the head before her eyes returned to the TV.

The last boy could hardly be a boy, Giselle thought. He loomed over them, creating a long shadow when passing the fireplace; walls of muscles gave him a masculine silhouette under his blue shirt, the waist narrowing in a way that made Giselle want to wrap around it. She took in his huge hands, long and well kept. His face was like the ones Giselle painted of dated royalty or soldiers; classically beautiful, with a godlike bone structure, a strong nose and symmetrical rose petal lips, which looked so soft for a boy. The black hair upon his head was cropped short, the longest on top barely reaching ¾ inch. His eyes melted Giselle's inside, so blue and gentle.

It was the fact that he looked like he had just stepped out of an old story book, or a portrait of a war hero, with a manner Giselle had only known from her paintings and not modern guys. She wondered if he would speak like she expected him to, a rumbling baritone that spoke nothing like the way Erin's boyfriends did. She couldn't guess what he would smell like, other than possibly soapy and clean.

The Adonis like giant looked around the room, slowing a little to choose a seat. He smiled in recognition at everyone, so lovely that Giselle was embarrassingly giddy for him to smile at her. But when his eyes did lock with hers, his face froze into a hard glare, making Giselle flinch in shock. What had she done? She felt so stupid; she never doted this much over someone, to feel so rejected by their hostility. Was it because he didn't know her?

The giant had now moved to the opposite side of the room, ignoring Giselle's hurt eyes as he took something out of the fridge and walked back the way he came, also ignoring the call Kitty asking where he was going.

"That's odd," The possible skateboarder said, "Peter said he was going to stay to watch TV with us."

**He left because of you.**

Giselle was horrified when the thought entered her head. She couldn't believe it wasn't true; his face, so sweet at first, had hardened to dislike when he looked at her.

**His name is **_**Peter**_**.**

_Peter _left as quickly as possible when he saw her, dismissing his previous plans after seeing her. Had anyone else noticed? Giselle wasn't sure if she had wanted them to, to give her insight as to why, or if she would be to embarrassed to wish such a thing. 

The other boys then noticed Giselle, Bobby saying, "Hey there, I'm Bobby, and this is Evan," the skateboarder waved at her from his spot Jubilee's feet. "Did you get here today?"

"Yes, my foster sister and I got here around midday. I'm Giselle," She paused with an afterthought, "-Kraus."

Bobby's face tightened a little and Evan stiffened at her words. "You don't mean…Erin Howard, do you?" Bobby said

"Oh good lord, what did she…?" At their scowls, she sighed. "I apologise for her behaviour, she likes to irritate and push people."

"Elle's nothing like that guys!" Kitty said, with Jubilee and Rogue nodding in agreement. Giselle just shrank a little, with an apologetic smile.

The two boys relaxed a little. "Good to know. Sorry, we just thought..."

"That I'd be like her? I'm glad to disappoint."

Evan laughed loudly at this. "Thank god, we already have John. Not one, but two more brats would've been too much!"

"What did she do-" Giselle mused.

"-or say-"

"-or plot?" Kitty and Jubilee cut in.

Bobby blushed and scowled at the same time, "She err…asked me to measure our dicks and-"

"WHAT!" Rogue roared.

"Again, I am so sorry." Giselle murmured.

"And continued onwards to majorly piss us off! She said my board was a piece of flammable shit and that my piercing was mainstream!" Evan added outraged. Definitely a skateboarder, then.

"Oh hell no!"

"I know, right?"

They all continued for a few minutes, venting their dislike.

"I hear John and Erin are similar, then?" Giselle asked.

Everyone's faces but Kitty's, who hadn't met Erin yet, darkened. "Oh yeah, _those two_ are like peas in a fucking pod!" Jubilee spat.

"They were like, trading ways to make us angry"

"John started showing off with his lighter, then she went on about her disease power, and then they ran off together to trade evil torture secrets."

"Err, lighter?"

"John can manipulate fire, but can't make it."

"Yeah, he carries around this lighter to use his power, but spends most of his time flicking the lid up and down, which is realllllly annoying." Kitty groaned on the word 'really' for emphasis.

"And Erin's his new play buddy? Brilliant. I suppose I shouldn't expect her to grow up to soon." Giselle scowled, her face tight from rarely doing so.

"What's your power?" Bobby asked.

"She ain't got one at tha' moment, her X gene's still dormant an' all." Rogue drawled.

"Man, that sucks." Evan gave me a sympathetic smile.

"Tell me about it." Giselle wondered how many times she would have to say that. But then her thoughts dragged back to Peter. "Is that why Peter dislikes me so?"

Everyone looked confused apart from Rogue, who said, "Probably honey. Ah' don't think anyone else noticed."

"Huh?" Kitty asked, turning to Giselle with a whip of her ponytail.

"His power isn't laser beams from the eyes is it?"

"Nah, he turns into an organic metal man. Scott has laser eyes, that's why he always wears those glasses."

"I see." Giselle carried on for the benefit of everyone else. "Peter didn't look very happy that I was here."

"Ohhhhh!" Everyone said in unison.

"Don't worry about it, he met Erin as well, and probably realised that you two likely know each other since your both new. She jumped him in his own room." Bobby said with sorry eyes.

"Jesus Christ. Guilty by association, then." Giselle's gut was boiling in frustration. She would have to talk to Erin about the collateral damage of her actions…

"Yeah, Pete's kinda old fashioned, he got angry when she err…"

"Propositioned him?" Giselle prompted with dread.

"Yep." Evan popped the 'p' with an accompanied glare at the memory. "I think he thinks that your friends. I mean, that girl is _really_ annoying."

"And horny!"

"I've often blamed that on the tantalising mix of the foster system, sexual urges and Tequila." Giselle grinned manically when everyone cracked up at her joke. It was a nice feeling, everyone so easily laughing with her.

"You're too cute to know about alcohol!" Evan teased.

"I know!" Kitty giggled, "Look at her chubby cheeks!" Yet again, Giselle wasn't successful at dodging Kitty's pinching fingers, and yelped like a puppy. Everyone laughed again as she scowled, rubbing her face tenderly. "This won't become a common accordance, I hope."

Large grins were her only answer.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

By Wednesday, Giselle wasn't sure whether she wanted to hide in a hole or jump for joy.

She had settled into her classes by now, which she enjoyed much more than before. There was always excitement and laughter, always something going on in the mansion. She hadn't seen the Professor since, but had met most of the other teachers.

It felt like Erin was avoiding her. Giselle had only seen twice; first, with John at the back of the only class they had had together so far, which was biology, Monday morning. By the time Giselle had packed her things to leave at the end, the two had already disappeared.

The second time Giselle actively sort her out, locating her room at the end of the hallway her own room was on. When she knocked, John opened the door instead. He leaned against the frame, clicking his lighter. Giselle could see what the others meant when they said it was annoying. She wanted to throw it at his head, though logic concluded that that would only form a vendetta between them. They stared at each other for a moment, neither backing down, until Giselle huffed and ducked by him into the room.

Erin was lying on the floor of her room, which she did not share with anybody. It was smaller, but had the same layout as Giselle and Kitty's. She leaned up when Giselle walked in. "Hello Sherlock, what do you want?"

"To see how you're settling in, among other things."

"Fuckin' cryptic as usual."

"Is this your sister?" John said, closing the door to roll onto the unmade bed.

Both girls said in unison, "_foster_ sister."

There was an awkward pause as the girls observed each other, while John smirked.

Giselle broke the silence. "You're John, aren't you?"

"Pyro." He paused the flicking of the lighter to turn on its small flame, which grew into a flame like glove, fading away after a few seconds.

"Charmed." Giselle turned, determined to ignore his presence until he went away. "Erin, how are you finding this?"

"S'better than the foster fuckers, but I'm going crazy, and before you say it, I haven't absorbed a mental disease." She said with a growl.

Giselle grinned. "Yet."

"Fuck off."

"Never. You'd miss my wit."

"Tight ass."

"Only with you, Erin. I need to talk to you about something."

"Threesome?" John butt in. Giselle's shock burnt into a withering glare.

"No chance."

"Then what, Jizz?"

"Don't call me that or I'll replace your coke with arsenic."

Erin's mullet shook a bit at her snort. "Where the fuck would you get arsenic?"

"They're in apple seeds. I could extract them from a few hundred if my fondness of you is beaten by how irritating you are."

"Thanks for the tip, Sherlock."

"Sherlock…?" John tilted his head and ran a hand through his slicked back hair. Giselle was disappointed when the gel wasn't adhesive enough for it to get stuck.

"She's a motherfucking nerd on everything, keeps like these diaries of random facts on everything, then analyses people to freak them out."

"That's never the intention, I simply am interested in people behaviour."

"Liar. Admit it, you enjoy being smarter than everyone."

Before Giselle could answer, John had got up and moved in front of her in seconds, too close for comfort. They were only inches away, the unnatural boil of his body heat irritating Giselle's cool skin under her white turtleneck. His voice was husky, and had finally stopped clicking his lighter. "Tell me about my behaviour."

There was a moment's pause as she examined him. "You're trying to induce a violent response from me, being purposely provocative and are trying to be intimidating with a lack of blinking. Perhaps it would work on occasion, but from your lowered voice and the way you staring at my lips, I would say that you're trying to increase my pheromones." Giselle tried with all her might to stand her ground, and to maintain her icy glare.

John leaned in even more, licking his own lips with a smirk. "Is it workin'?"

Giselle leaned in as well, staring at his lips, before pulling back abruptly. "No. The effect is lost when you fidget with that hangnail; your also reputation soils any attractive opinion one has of you, even if your odour does not." And with that she left, muttering a goodbye to Erin.

**Tease**.

He deserved it, Giselle concluded. How even Erin could want to voluntarily spend time with him, she did not know.

**They've bonded over their idolising of a roguish personality. **

It wasn't till later did she realise that she had forgotten to scold Erin for making Peter hate her. However, in reflection, maybe that was a good thing. John was there, and the both of them would probably pick up on how upset Giselle was that Peter had shunned her. Woe betide if they realised Giselle had a crush.

_I do not have a crush!_

**Yes you do.**

She scowled at her treacherous conscious. It was only because she hated when people disliked her.

**And that fact that he looks like the love child of Gregory Peck and a young Gary Cooper.**

That thought just proved how old her taste in films were.

Unlike Erin, Peter was in quite a few of her classes, and in all of them he spent his time glaring at her. Even Kitty, whom she sat next to usually, noticed. At one point, he didn't hear what Ororo Munroe (Storm), one of their teachers on Tuesday, had asked him because he had been so wrapped up in giving Giselle a death stare.

What hurt even more was how kind he was to everybody else; she had seen him a few times with the younger children, who adored him. How could he dislike her so much? She had a feeling that Erin must have really offended him. He must think that Giselle was like Erin as well, if he thought they were friends.

Giselle seemed to spend all her time scolding herself because of him. On Wednesday morning, she had even let him chase her out of the kitchen. Jubilee and herself had been laughing about Rogue chasing after Kitty when she stole her straighteners at 4 in the morning, when Peter appeared out of nowhere. He stepped behind Giselle, who was blocking the way to the coffee maker. He offered a soft 'good morning' to Jubilee, and then a bone chilling "Move." to Giselle. She had jumped out of the way with fright, frozen by his eyes that were in the dark shade of his frown, and then promptly muttered a 'sorry' before leaving the room.

Giselle hated being shouted at; as a child, she would cry for hours if a teacher did, and even now it took all her might to stop her eyes from swelling enough to hide behind a witty retort. Even though that had literally been the only word Peter had said to her, it was so venomous that she had to stifle a sob into her pillow that night when she remembered. Thank goodness Kitty was a heavy sleeper, her snores rumbled through the room like a purring animal.

Tomorrow would be her first one on one training session, run by Scott. She had been told that instead of one on one lessons to improve her powers, she would train to improve her physical state, so that she wouldn't be hindered by her disadvantage in combat. She wasn't sure why she said that she wouldn't mind being a junior Xmen, but was not displeased enough to decline, and was more flattered, as not all the students were asked to train for the role.

She was nervous and joyous at the same time. It was like being a superhero. Fighting to save mutants and humans alike, an ideal Giselle believed was very noble of the Xmen. A lot of mutants were resorting to violence against humans, thinking that because they were the evolved species, the other had to die out.

**That's a good point. **

It was rather Darwinian, actually. Survival of the fittest. However humans weren't mindless animals, they were people. Like mutants, you had some good and bad; the good shouldn't be condemned alongside the bad.

**Like Peter's doing with you. **

Giselle huffed at this. That did seem to be his reasoning, guilty by association, until proven innocent. Though he didn't exactly give Giselle the chance to prove her innocence.

Sleep was teasing her devilishly, too far away for her to banish her thoughts, but clear in sight to torture her with desire. She usually awoke early, too eager to achieve something to lounge in bed. She would quietly lay her things out for the day and use the bathroom so that she would never be stuck rushing for the other three girls.

Giselle had only drifted off for a few blissful hours, before her body woke her up as usual at 6am. She did not bounce out of bed as usual, but rolled over, eyes towards the pillow to block out the advancing light of day.

She didn't emerge from her cave of rose printed bedding until 9 o' clock, with an hour to spare before lessons. At the Institute, there were only 5 lessons a day, each on hour long, with a 30-minute lunch at 1pm. All the children had individual training lessons at one point in the week, and some had training for the Xmen in the Danger Room. Today, straight after lessons, she would start her own physical training with Scott.

Giselle was feeling fairly anxious about this; while she was not unfit, the only regular exercise she did was dance, and from what Kitty had told her, it seemed she would be working in combat for most of her training. A reoccurring dread of hers when she thought about it was her having to run around the school a few time while everyone watched and marked her poorly.

And threw bludgers at her, like in Harry Potter. Peter usually managed to score the shot that brought her down.

Lets just say she wished that she hadn't stopped going to Judo.

At lunch, she quickly consumed her sandwich and apple, then left Jubilee, Kitty and Rogue early, much to their amusement; apparently she looked quite funny when she was flustered.

Giselle ventured to her room, doing a sporadic tidy to calm her nerves. She donned a knitted white cardigan with daisies, not because it was cold, more so that the plush material would sooth her. Her next class was art, with Ororo, or 'Miss Monroe', as they addressed her when in class. Giselle had her for many other lessons, as well as Jean Grey, Scott and part time teacher Marlene, whose skin excreted a poisonous vapour in fights. Apparently Peter was a great artist as well; while this made Giselle bashful that they had something else in common, she was grounded with glumness, remembering that he still hated her.

Giselle took so long choosing which art supplies to take down (in the end, just her current sketchbook and a case of charcoal and graphite pencils) that when she found her way to class, she was the last one there. She uttered a profuse apology to Miss Monroe and automatically sat down in the only available seat of the circular layout, next to a younger girl with ashy hair and long elf ears. Most of the creative classes, like music or art had a larger age range, as age wasn't restrictive of ability as in academic ones.

It wasn't till Storm had explained their task for the day (examining detail in facial features) and got them to start sketching, when Giselle had finished her first bulbously accurate nose, did she notice someone's eyes on her.

**In front of you. **

She looked up and flinched. Peter was glaring at her from across the circle of desks, angrily stabbing at his paper. Giselle had a horrible feeling that he was stabbing at a drawing of her, though he didn't strike her as being the sadist type. Maybe she brought that side of him out. Rogue was sitting next to him, and had noticed the staring again; she mouthed 'are you ok' to Giselle with a sorry smile, who just shrugged her shoulders and immersed herself in her drawing again.

She never was bothered with Erin's attempts to intimidate her, why was it so different with Peter? Perhaps because he was twice the size of her, and was an absolute angel around everyone else; he even held the door open for Kitty the other day!

The lesson had 5 minutes left when Giselle contemplated throwing an extremely sharp pencil at Peter. Apparently he was related to _the _Grigori Rasputin, who knows, perhaps he had his alleged voodoo powers as well?

It was too late to pretend to need the bathroom, Storm would just tell her to wait. Giselle stared back at the haggard of man she had drawn, every wrinkle embedded into the page like a photograph. She liked drawing older people, they held more character in their faces; this one was Mongolian, with heavy lidded eyes, long peppered hair and cracked, pursed lips. Half of his face was hidden from view due to a lack of light and a weathered labourer's hand rubbing that side; while it was a black and white sketch, the hazy outlines and creeping shadows portrayed the man as being in some sweltering desert, with little wind and a settling sun. Giselle took her time cleaning the edges of the paper with her eraser, and then signed her name between the folds of the Mongolians loose neck scarf. She was so intent on tracing her signature again and again to vent her frustration, she didn't hear everyone get up to leave, or Rogue's footstep until she said "Honey that's stunning!"

Giselle yelped and dropped her now blunt pencil. "Rogue! Don't scare a poor girl when she's day dreaming!"

"Sorry Giselle. But seriously, ya' got a talent there, it looks like ah' could pull that guy outta the page." Rogue picked up her pencil, and waited with her until she was ready to go.

"Just one second, I need to ask Miss Monroe something," however as Giselle turned to Storm, she spotted her talking to Peter, who was showing his work to her, "Actually, never mind, I'll do it later-"

"Ohhhh no ya' don't! Stop being a pussy an' ask whatever ya' need ta' ask!"

"Since when did you get so sassy? Seriously, I-" Rogue interrupted Giselle's sentence with a surprisingly strong push, which drove Giselle to stagger a few steps in front of Storm and Peter. They both looked up at her, the older lady's maternal smile contrasting from Peter's suddenly stony expression. "Hello Giselle, what can I help you with?" Storm asked.

"I ermm," Giselle hastily tucked her hair behind her ear and thrust her free hand into the pocket of her cardigan, fiddling with the inside label, "I was wondering if I could work on my art here in my free time, you see, I don't want Kitty to get mad if I spill any white spirit or solvent in our room."

"Of course! I understand, the smell can take a very long time to remove. What is your preferred medium?"

"I usually sketch, though oil painting is my favourite, even if it does take so much time; I was half way through a commission before I moved here, I was hoping to ship it off by next week."

"Ah, a budding professional!" Storm laughed good-naturedly. "Peter is the same, though he refuses to sell his work; a pity, really. May I see your sketchbook?"

Giselle complied, thankful that this one had mostly finished pieces. "You have a talent, my dear. Look at this Peter, Miss Kraus draws a lot of flowers as well!"

Peter liked drawing flowers? Huh, who knew.

**Probably everyone else, since you're the only one he wants to kill.**

Peter swept his eyes intently over her work, but didn't say a word. Giselle stiffened at Storm's words, quickly thrusting her book in her back when it was passed back and murmured a thank you and goodbye, hastily dragging Rogue out of the room. She scowled at the smirk Rogue was wearing, and failed in preventing her from telling Jubilee and Kitty, who found great pleasure in teasing Giselle for her burning cheeks.

She was saved by her training commitments, so after locking herself in their bathroom to change into sportswear, she quickly went in search of Scott. Kitty's directions and the map lead her to the gym on the other end of the school, where Scott was waiting by the rowing machines.

Giselle would've taking 10 staring matches with Peter over training with Scott.

Every cell in her body was screaming for water, sleep and a shower by the end. Her clothes were stuck to her with sweat, her hair so grimy she knew she would have to wash it again later. Thank goodness that she rarely wore eye makeup, otherwise it would've been in rivers down her face. She hadn't worked this hard since her ballet school's show of Swan Lake, where they had back-to-back, 2 hours shows for 3 weeks. Her toes still tingled in the memory.

Scott had decided to 'take it easy' with her today, seeing what her limits and strengths and weaknesses were. His workout involved nearly all the machines in the gym, from a 2 mile run on the treadmills, followed by rowing, floor work, weight lifting and boxing with him, though the last seemed to carry on longer than necessary for his amusement. Apparently she had good stamina and leg strength, though she could barely lift a thing with the weights, and her punches were weak, though accurate. Giselle didn't know what he meant by accurate; he had blocked every single blow she tried, countering with bruising kicks and japs. What was even more humiliating was that he obviously was holding back, and barely break a sweat! Were the other junior Xmen as fit as him?

Just when Giselle thought the torture was over, Scott pulled her down to the lab and ran a few tests on her. Her BMI was a little higher than it should be, and she was veering on being anaemic, though that could be remedied with a monitored new diet. For a girl who lived on bread, bacon, apples and granola bars, this wasn't music to her ears.

Her friends of course found this hilarious the next day when Scott had left a note for her to lay off on the box of Crispy Crunch Bars in the kitchen. Jubilee, of course, decided to read it out loud, which gave Giselle the incentive to chase her around the room for a good few minutes. She was irritatingly faster; looks like the junior Xmen _were_ fitter than her.

Erin appeared again in music, Friday's last double period. John and her were in the corner of the room sharing a large green bean bag and glaring in unison at any one who looked their way. Giselle contemplated going over to say hello, but thought better of it, and went over to sit with Jubilee and Evan by the keyboards. Music was a fairly freelance class; Storm was out with the Professor for unknown business, and had left with Marlene, who insisted they never address her with 'Miss Twain' ever on pain of death; she was a young ginger woman with heavy freckles and a master's in botany, so she informed everyone not to be too impressed by her music prowess and to 'get to know' the instruments in the room, of which there were many.

Giselle found herself in conversation with Evan while she tried to teach him how to read the score of 'True Blue' they had. "Good, you've got the first 4 bars down, the next is just a repeat, but the last C is a sharp instead."

"Right, awesome, I think I've got this!"

"Evan…"

"…yeah?"

"You need to actually touch the keyboard to play it, unless you're telekinetic."

Evan gave a blushing smile and rubbed the back of his neck. "Ahh right…nah I'm not."

"Do you want me to show you again?"

"…yes please." Giselle tried to suppress her smile; Evan was just too adorable. He was one of those streetwise kids, and reminded her of Will Smith from The Fresh Prince, though with a heart of gold. He was also the nephew of Storm, but Giselle only realised the other day when they were talking about his mother, Storm's sister.

After playing the first 8 bars a few times on his own, Giselle asked, "So, what _is_ your mutation?"

"I've got a tripped up skeleton, so I can shoot bone spikes outta my skin." He laughed at Giselle's shocked expression.

"You regrow your bones back, don't you?"

"What? Oh errr, I guess…"

"You guess? How could you not know?"

He laughed loudly at her wide eyes. "Chill, Giselle! I'm still alive, ain't I? I'm sure I do; it doesn't even hurt when I shoot them through my skin!"

"Oh good god, you don't bleed do you?"

"…"

"Evan!"

"Sorry, sorry I don't ok! Ouch!" Evan ducked another swipe at his forearm, "I thought you said you sucked at punching?"

Giselle grumbled, "According to Scott I do. Did he put everyone on a diet when they got here, of is it just for littl' ol' me?"

Evan snorted. "Maybe save the southern accent for Rogue, 'kay girl?" Giselle pouted, "Don't worry about Scott, he takes the whole 'soldier fit' thing too seriously."

"Did he make you diet as well?"

"Pffft, why would he? Look at these muscles!" Giselle groaned when he started flexing his arms.

"Down boy, you're ruining the innocence of the younger children." And true to her word, they both looked at a group of 14-year-old giggling girl opposite.

"Hey, they're cute!"

"Ewww, Evan, they're like 3 years younger!" Jubilee butted in.

"For you maybe, I'm still 15!"

"With the height of a college student and the mentality of a baby!" Giselle teased.

"Who are you calling 'baby'?" Evan said slyly, as Giselle's eyes widened.

"No!" she squealed, "Jubilee, help me!" she hopped onto the next stool, fearing Evan's pinching fingers.

"Nahh, this is for letting Kitty lock me in the bathroom!"

"Traitor, I'll – Ouch! Evan!"

"You punched me before!"

"You were purposely messing with me!"

"Lover's spat already, Jizz?" We all looked up at Erin and John, who was holding a harpsichord instead of his lighter, for once. He played a romantic tune for a comedic effect, though Erin was the only one who seemed to find it funny.

"What do you want, Howard?" Evan coldly asked.

"Why the chill, Spikey? I thought that was the Iceman's rep?"

"Erin, please." Giselle asked in the most calming tone she could muster. "Is there a reason you're here?" A lack of proximity from Erin seemed to have made her more irritating than before.

"I just wanted to talk to my dear ol' sister."

"Don't insult my intelligence, Erin."

"Fine, bitch!"

"Hey don't call her that!" Jubilee growled.

"Jubilee, don't worry about it, she always-"

"What do mean, 'don't worry about it', Elle? You shouldn't let her talk to you like that!"

"I personally think 'Jizz' suits her better." John cut in.

Giselle scowled at the uncouth comment. "Still vile and-"

"Provocative? Wanna obverse me again?"

"Don't tempt me, I'll lobotomise you."

Erin finally stopped their clashing horns. "Whateverrrr, bitches, chill!"

"We said don't call her bitch!" Evan snarled.

"Erin, can we continue this alone," Giselle interrupted, "For the sake of our sanity at least?"

A nod was all it took for Giselle to herd Erin behind a bookshelf of How To Play guides. "Ok, Erin, tell me there was a reason for winding everybody up."

The blonde twirled the ends of her mullet lazily, her tongue flicking out to play with her piercing. "I seriously want to know how you are doing, sis."

"Erin, please stop lying."

"I'm not, Jesus I-"

Giselle held up a hand. "_No._ Tell me the reason you want to talk, or-"

"Or else _what_, Giselle?" Erin snarled, stepping close enough to trap her against the bookshelves, "You gonna talk me to death?" She raised a hand menacingly to Giselle's cheek, the nails starting to glow a sickly green.

"I'll appeal to your morals. Besides, what would the point of infecting me? I thought you wanted something?"

Erin paused for a few seconds, before scowling. "I do. I need to borrow some money?"

"Are you going to return the money? Or do you want it as a gift?"

"Don't fuck with me, ok?" Erin whispered, "I'll pay you back."

"Right."

"I did last time, didn't I?"

"After several months, but I suppose you did. Carry on…"

"I never paid Dan back for his weed."

"And he's chasing you up about it?"

"Yeah."

"Fine," Giselle sighed, "How much?"

"$120," At Giselle's dropped jaw she added, "It was 14 grams, ok?"

"How…why…? You know what, never mind. I don't even care." Giselle made to walk away, but Erin pulled her back behind the shelf.

"Are you gonna give it to me then?"

"That's the price of my average commission for a _full canvas_, Erin! How could you be so idiotic!"

"Common sis, it's the last time!"

Giselle slapped her hand away. "No it's not! It never is, you're not even trying to quit! Why not try getting a job to clean up you own messes. And _never_ call me 'sis' again; you know we don't have that kind of relationship, no matter what a piece of paper the government print says." Giselle quickly walked away, cursing her own sniffing and not even noticing that she was going to walk into someone on the other side of the shelf.

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry I didn't- oh its-…sorry." It was Peter. Of course it would be, to further add to her humiliation.

**He heard everything. **

He was on the other side of the bookshelf after all, and probably thought Giselle was Erin's pimp or something equally ghastly. She didn't know what to say, and refused to meet his eyes above her; if she saw that hateful glare again, she knew she would cry. Instead she hurried away, ignoring her bags and Jubilee and Evan's worried looks. Marlene didn't even notice her leave, as she was marking her biology classes assessments.

Damn him. Damn Erin for being so immature. Giselle knew it was cruel to say that Erin embarrassed her, but it was true; she didn't want to be associated with her, but she couldn't help but be there, just in case Erin changed. She was naïve enough to think that the Institute would change that, and that when Giselle stood up for Erin against the Stonewalls, it would've been a turning point of some sort.

Evidently she was wrong.

It was just her luck that Erin had met John, the vile pervert. Just when Erin was (possibly) considering responsibility, John had come along and coaxed her back.

Damn him as well!

She didn't return to the lesson, opting to hide in her room with her copy of Logicomix. It did little good to steady her mind, as she was frustrated by still remembering every page of the novel already, so her interest was lost.

This was humiliating. She was hiding in her room like a certain winged farm animal. She never hid; sure, tactfully stay out of arguments, but she always got the last word, the final line on stage as it were.

The time between then and Scott's training lesson trooped by lethargically, filled with Giselle aimlessly distracting herself with homework she had already completed. She quickly changed and hurried down to the gyms before classes ended, as she knew that Jubilee and Evan would tell the others about her running off. While it was lovely for people to actually care, right know she just need to concentrate on simple things, like her screaming muscles and dwindling stamina.

"Nice and early, I see Giselle!" Scott enthusiastically greeted, "We'll start now then; start stretching, we're going to work on weights today!"

Scott seemed to associate her earliness with a want to attend these sessions. How humorous.

By the time they reached combat training, Scott actually noticed her attitude. "Wow, venting our anger today?" he said, blocking another messy kick.

"I have -*puff*- no idea -*puff*- what -*puff*- you're talking about!" Giselle denied between moves.

"Righhhhht…so there's no reason for the cute snarling?"

"I am not cute!" she growled, "Why does -*puff*- everybody say -*puff*- that!"

She really wished she could actually land a blow on Scott when he laughed like that. "HA! You're wearing a top with rainbow flowers on!"

**Guilty.**

"You really shouldn't -*puff*- aggravate your opponent, -*puff*- Scott."

He pulled at her flying fist, using the momentum to trip her onto the floor. Giselle huffed and glared at him, even angrier now that her temper had him laughing again.

"Please stop that face, you're killing me!"

"Are you going to help me up, or not?"

"Hey, you need the exercise…"

Giselle jumped up, fuelled by the insult and preceded to slap Scott's forearm. She secretly thanked him for humouring her for standing still while she did this.

"For that, you are gonna have to be punished," He grinned at her defeated posture, "But don't worry; you can do 50 push ups instead of facing trial for abuse."

Giselle groaned. This day was just getting better and better.

Of course she couldn't succeed in sneaking back to her room, showering and going to bed. Fate wouldn't dare give her a break.

The girls pounced on her when she closed the door.

"WHAT THE HELL GISELLE WHERE DID YOU GO!" Jubilee howled.

"WHAT DID THE GERM DO! I'LL SHAVE THE REST OF HER HEAD OFF" Kitty yelled.

Rogue was the only one in control of her voice box, though she was clenching her fists with a dark glare. "Tell us what she said to you, Elle."

"Nothing, don't worry about it." She quickly peeled off her trainers and made for the bathroom, but Kitty grabbed her legs, fazing her through the floor so that she was stuck, only visible from the waist upwards. "Kitty, this is unfair! Let me go!"

"Not until you tell us!"

Jubilee punched her palm. "Do you want us to beat her up?"

"What? NO! No, please don't, I don't want you getting the flu because-"

"'Cause we're stickin' up fer our friend?" Rogue interrupted. "Common, Giselle, what kinda people do ya' take us for?"

"We've got your back, girl!" Kitty agreed.

Giselle's eyes watered a little. They were her friends, so loyal after barely a week knowing her, whereas she hadn't trusted anyone in years.

**Time to start. **

But it wasn't that easy, she couldn't just turn it on like a switch.

**Of course not, but you have to try. **

Giselle gulped in some air to steady her nerves.

**Bravery is a virtue you've neglected.**

She looked at the three girls above her, hands on hips and furrowed brows, all because she disappeared from class. She didn't deserve this. But she wasn't a fool; she wouldn't let them go, just like that.

"Erin's having money troubles, and asked me for some."

"Are you kidding me? She's got some fucking nerve!" Jubilee growled.

"You didn't say yes, did 'ja honey?"

"No, I was tempted, but…" Giselle let out a shuddering breath again, "she's not going to change, is she?"

The momentary silence was enough. Eventually Kitty pulled her out of the floor and into a hug. "Babe, you shouldn't bother with people like that."

"Am I being heartless, am I just not trying hard enough? I mean I haven't exactly gone out of my way to-"

Rogue rubbed my shoulder to shut me up. "People like Erin are messed up. We all have been tryin' ta knock some inta' John fer a long time, Bobby's known him fer years an' even he's frustrated."

"But Erin hasn't had the easiest life, and its so huge, finding out you're a mutant!" Giselle reasoned.

Jubilee was quick to answer. "You've gone through that as well, and you're not telling people to either fuck off or fuck you!" Giselle winced at the vulgarity, but still let out a hoarse chuckle. "But that's not all she said, is it?"

She shook her head, staring at the floor over Kitty's embrace. "It was more what I said," at their prompting to continue, she added, "She used the 'sister' card, and I lost my temper. We've always lived together on the mutual agreement that while we were…_allies _in our foster house, we weren't sisters just because we had the same guardians. We both knew what our relationship was, that was always clear. If we wanted more, we would work for it; I thought she wanted that now. It just…_hurt._ That she would use that to get something. When she asked for money before, she _never_ did it."

Giselle's nose was running along with her eyes now, so she tried to pull away to find something to wipe her face, but Kitty clung onto her. "Kitty, I really need to blow my nose." She whispered.

"Use my shoulder, 'cause I'm NEVER letting go!"

"Kitty that's disgusting, and your shirt is cotton!"

"We're girlfriends, Elle!" Kitty pulled away a tiny bit to look into Giselle's glistening eyes. "I know you're not used to lettin' it out to anyone, but that's what you're meant to do, and we're not going to go away, so quit hidin'! Besides, you said your snot's not corrosive!"

"But I-"

"Oh shut up, you stupid baby!" Jubilee growled, "Start cryin' or I'll make you!" She fizzled a firework in her hands. Giselle didn't need to be told twice. Her chest heaved with hysterical giggles, though she wasn't sure what was so funny. The pain in her sore throat induced a large sob, leading the way for other ones to follow. She tried hiding her hurt pride in Kitty's shoulder, cotton shirt be damned.

Giselle had to hand it to Kitty, the girl who squirted her hands with sanitizer after every class; not once did pull away from her, and if anything, squeezed tighter.

Jubilee joined in at one point, while Rogue wrapped an arm around to continue the sooth circles she massaged into her back. The compassion Giselle felt was overwhelming; it served to add another good 10 minutes of crying out how lucky she was to have them, and while her speech was slurred and incoherent, they seemed to get the message. None of them even mentioned the fact that she was so sweaty, they all ended up having to shower before dinner.

For once, Giselle felt utterly free and safe in a group of other people.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Giselle looked down at the softly snoring lump that was Kitty Pryde, still adorned in the lacy blue dress she had borrowed from her. Giselle really wanted to wear that dress today; as stupid as it sounded, she had been looking forward to it when she was planning her day, and was slightly miffed at Kitty.

She considered simply pulling it off of her, however consented that that could be seen as sexual harassment.

_Curse the laws of modesty! _

Saturday had reined its merciful head with a chilly drizzle that had been going on since Giselle had woken up. She was accustomed to being the earliest riser, and had gone about the usual activities involving hygiene and homework for the morning until her claustrophobia made her abandon her notes on glucose concentrations and monosaccharides. She flexed her ankles and toes before trooping over to the window.

Most people hated the rain and thought it rotten, but Giselle loved it; the sound, the way everything looked and smelt when soaked, even the feeling of it against her skin; she had caught many a cold because she had simply wandered around in the rain for hours, drenched and feeling euphoric. Call her crazy, but she much preferred it to the snow.

Her breath clogged her view through the glass, bringing her back to the present moment. For once, she was bored at the Institute; everyone seemed to still be asleep and she longed to just get out of this room.

She wiggled into one of her only pair of jeans, which were high waisted, thick and worn with holes. She couldn't help but slip on a black frilly vest, but had to face reality that it wasn't summer anymore, and put on a thick green jumper as well, tucking her braided hair inside it. Thankfully, the nutty smell of perspiration had finally left her trainers from Scott's torture sessions due to a good airing and a can or two of aerosol fresheners. Giselle laced them up tightly and pulled at the tongues so that her feet were snug and wouldn't have imprints of the tips of laces or trims of seams later on.

_Now, what to…ah!_

She pulled the spine of Tarzan Of The Apes down, silently chuckling at the bookmark that was tucked into the back. This was one of her favourite books, one that she had discovered _years _ago and never tired of. The creamy laminated card was dedicated to this book, and she had taken to jotting down the date every time she finished reading it again. So far it had 14 dates on it.

Giselle made her way down towards the kitchen, washing a green apple with light freckles before finding the French doors of the conservatory. Storm had taken to turn it into a lounge of sorts, with lots of garden sofas and indoor plants secreting their sweet scents; apparently she had created a far more impressive green house in the attic of all places so that she could water them when the roof panels were opened, but Giselle had yet to see it.

She swerved through the terracotta and ivy patterned obstacles to another set of doors leading outside. Giselle tucked her book under her jumper and braced herself as she jumped into the pelting rain, giggling with satisfaction at the refreshing chill of its bullets. Immediately she was soaked, the flyaways of her braid pressed down onto her face and neck.

There was a pathway ahead of her, covered by large oak trees and neatly planted bushes. She floated down it with a content smile, kicking at an orange stone that had travelled into the dirt path. After a few turns, the tree's thick foliage blocked the mansion from view apart from its grey tiled roof, and she discovered a small clearing with thick wooden benches crudely forming a sort of circle. A similar circular block was in the centre, and on closer inspection you could make out the weathered carvings with blunt objects and splintering pieces of wood that had softened in the wet weather. Giselle smiled; it was things like this that made the mansion so welcoming. There were multiple hideaways to relax in, with a visible effort to make them pleasant and homely in some way. This new discovery reminded her of a tiny park playground, though it didn't seem to be in much use compared to other parts of the grounds like the basketball court and possibly the now covered up swimming pool in warmer weather.

Unfortunately for her, the clearing was large enough for the surrounding trees to offer little protection from the rain, so Giselle went in search of a nearby seat to lodge herself. She successfully spied a stout tree with wide branches in her reach, with chipped footholds from a previous climber. Close to the ground was a y-shaped crook where the truck slit into separate paths, with a snug Giselle-looking crevice to make a nest in.

Despite her shameful upper body strength, she planted herself in the desired destination, though a few of her holes in her jeans ripped ever more and served as a gate way for the jagged bark to scrape at her knees. Her mission was worth it though, she concluded, and settled down to read under the deep canopy of leaves that protected her beloved treasure. The loud crunch of her apple was music to her ears, as was the sour juice that ran over her lips.

When she finally broke out of her reading trace of swinging apes and cabins in the jungle, she realised that she'd stopped shivering, and that humid rays of light were peak through the leaves. Her stomach gurgled the digested citric acid from her apple, making her wonder if lunch time was around the corner; at any rate, the drastic change in weather suggested that she had been there for a while.

After spending a few moments staring at the ground and wishing there was a better way down, she conceded to tentatively climb down until the ground was close to jump onto. She staggered up from her less than graceful roll that had made the book under her jumper slam into her gut, which in turn snarled its irritation and hunger.

By the time she got back, various voices and noises indicated the household's awakened state. While her jumper was now just damp and she could wipe her face with the sleeve, her jeans and trainers clung to her, still extremely soggy and now itchy in the drier air. Giselle firmly rubbed her feet on the garden mat, immaturely enjoying the feeling and sound the course bristles made. After a good run around in the rain, she was always reduced to a simple frame of mind, secluded to youthful desires and gleeful responses to the most normal of things.

"Elle? Err…what are you doing?" Evan was looking at her through the open doors in the hallway, his head peaking around the corner with a bemused look.

"…Nothing."

"Any reason you were giggling while the mat gave ya' a food massage? And why are you soaked?"

"Well, I umm," Giselle gave a sheepish grin, "I kinda love being in the rain, it puts me in a good mood."

"Enough to give the furniture a foot rub? Damn, girl, next time I want one!"

She laughed, joining him in the corridor. "You wouldn't know to time, would you?"

He glanced at his Adidas watch. "10 to 12. Btw, Kitty's looking for you, some thing about you being kidnapped?"

She couldn't help but smile at that; trust Kitty to take a few hours out of sight to mean being taken away by force from a property full of trained Xmen. "Thanks for the heads up, Evan. As you can see, the only thing that kidnapped me was this," She brandished her book with both hands to her chest, "and that was just my attention. See you later."

Giselle turned towards the main corridor with thoughts of dry clothes in her head, but Evan pulled her back by the hand. "Yo, I wouldn't go down there, I just walked past Jean having a damn fit at Erin for scaring some of the younger kids."

Giselle grimaced at that. "It's disheartening that I'm not surprised."

Instead they both walked together the opposite way until Giselle left him to walk the longer way to her room up the west staircase. She was finally able to get to basic locations here without her map, and was determined to not to need it soon.

When she got back to the kitchen, now in leggings, her old school hoodie and fluffy white socks with grips on the bottom to act as indoor shoes, she was greeted by the amusing sight of a red faced Kitty with her hands on her cocked hips and angrily tapping her foot on the poor tile floor. "OH LOOK WHO IT IS! Glad to see you've graced us with your presence!"

Giselle pouted playfully. "My dear Kitty, what is the reason for this less than hospitable reception?"

"You," Kitty thrust a finger at her like a weapon, "have been gone for hours after spending the end of yesterday crying to us and like, eating Cadbury's chocolate! Like, where the hell were you? I thought you'd been fucking ambushed by John and Erin or something!"

Angry Kitty was so adorable.

"I apologise, I should have left a note of some sort. I was out in the gardens, reading, and lost track of time. I can assure you, I wasn't in contact with anyone until I talked to Evan a few minutes ago on my arrival."

"Lost track of time? How long were you out for? Wait, I swear it was raining before?!"

"…I have a fascination with the rain. I always get this desire to run around in it." She shrugged her shoulders like it was the most normal answer in the world.

"Jesus, Elle, you're like crazy, you know that?"

She realised a gleeful grin at her. "Are we all, Kitty cat?"

Kitty huffed and crossed her arms in defiance, though her rocky attitude was crumbling like sand. "_I'm _not…"

"Of course you aren't." Giselle winked. "I'm famished, what's lunch looking like?"

"Well, your highness, you tell me. I'm sure cooking is one of your many talents as well!"

"Hardly; I can burn anything, even if it's meant to just be pre heated. I even destroyed mac and cheese."

Kitty gaped at her. "How! Even _I_ can do that, and I can't work the oven unless Rogue or some one else does it for me!"

"I can never understand those dials; they always seemed to be switched around every time I use them!"

"Oh my god _same!" _

Kitty of course decided she need a demonstration at how bad exactly Giselle's cooking was. She tried cooking eggs and bacon, but she dropped the entire egg in the pan, smashed the oil everywhere so that the hob was covered in a sizzling layer of it, and also made the bacon catch fire. They were caught by a scowling Scott, who punished them both with longer training hours for Giselle and Kitty to join hers for the day.

Scott's temper was vile that day, fuelling him to order them to run around the school without a break and an extra 45 minutes of combat and weight training. Giselle was glad to see that she was actually stronger than Kitty, even if her footwork was quick and flawless. After Giselle being slammed to the ground and beaten several times, Scott stormed off, shouting that they were done for the day over his shoulder.

"Scott is being a horrible contrast to his usual sickeningly sweet manner."

"I know right? _Apparently, _Jean and him had a row this morning."

"Really? Pray tell…"

Kitty raised an eyebrow at her in mock shock. "Baby face wants to gossip? Have you been corrupted already?"

"Oh shut up and tell me the details."

"_And _cursing! She used to be such a lovely girl." Kitty yelped at Giselle punching her in the shoulder, "Ok ok, _chill_. Bobby and Rogue were in his room when they heard them yelling about some of the mutant rights speeches the Professor has been doing. Scott doesn't want Jean to accompany him, 'cause them she'll become a target."

"Well that's all very gallant of Scott, but he can't expect her to do nothing. Jean's a speaker as well, and is a very powerful mutant; people are probably watching her already because of the Xmen."

"Yeah, I guess." Kitty frowned and bit her lip in thought. "Do you think we're safe here? I mean like, I know that we've got all this protection and training and the government can't doing anything public but…I'm _scared_, Elle. What will they do to us if the riots get worse and-"

"Kitty, stay strong." Giselle firmly gripped her friend's shoulders. "This is probably the safest place there is for mutants, with the Xmen, the training, and I'm willing to bet that there's some sort of security system hidden here; if anyone does try to hurt us, we'll be there for each other, ok? I will _NOT_ leave you, and nor will Rogue, Jubilee, Bobby, Evan or any of the others!"

Kitty sniffed a little and gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks, Elle, you're awesome."

"So I've been told."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The rest of Saturday went by soothingly, filled with Giselle helping Jubilee and Kitty with Maths homework for Miss Grey, watching an anime called Deathnote that Giselle was now fixated on and having her hair manhandled into various hairstyles and braids.

Sunday followed a similar pattern, though thankfully without Scott's training session; Giselle wasn't sure if this was a good thing though, as she wanted to see Scott in a good mood to set her mind at ease. The lenses of his red glasses were practically glowing yesterday.

After writing down the date on her bookmark for finishing Tarzan Of The Apes for the 15th time, Giselle decided to go for a wonder.

She came across an open door where she could see Evan playing on his Xbox. Giselle called a greeting at him and walked in, horror crossing her face at the mess in the boy's room. Clothes were laid bare everywhere, the beds were unmade, it was terribly stuffy and some disguarded sweets were rolling around on the carpet.

"Dear god, Evan, did a bomb go off in here?"

He pouted at her, lazily scrolling through the menu of his game. "Sorry, I didn't know I was having _royalty_ over today," Evan threw her a sly grin. "Oh wait, its just you, but I suppose its all the same girl."

Giselle wrinkled her nose as she cautiously made her way to the centre of the room. "Erin would be able to collect a lot of ammunition in here. You could charge her by the strand of pathogen. Is that you're underwear? Heaven forbid I could have moved through life without seeing that."

"_You're_ feeling bitchy today, Elle. Did Kitty steal your shoes again?"

"Thankfully not, I've created a chart to hang on my wardrobe for her to record what she's borrowed and when she'll return it."

"…You're kidding right?" He barked a laugh at her serious face, "Girl, you need a hobby."

Giselle pouted. "I was extremely bored ok? There's nothing to do!"

"Why don't you chill with me? Take a seat and steal Bobby's controller."

"Are you sure he won't mind? I've never played before, you'll probably want to shoot me afterwards."

"Nah it's fine. Bobby's getting ready for a date with Rogue." He patted the chair next to him, "Besides, I think you'll like this; you're into history and stuff, right? I'm playing Assassin's Creed; it goes into _massive_ detail over the time period and stuff. If you want, you can watch me play a bit and switch, then do some multiplayer shit when you get the hang of it."

"Hmm…that _does_ sound intriguing…why not!"

A little later, Bobby emerged out of the shower. "I can't believe you're playing a game about a guy who's kidnapped and forced to watch his ancestors stabbing people, Giselle. Evan, you're such a bad influence!" He joked.

Giselle turned to him to answer. "No fair! This game is very accurate on such hist-ahhh! Bobby! Put your clothes back on!" She squealed and ducked.

The iceman looked at her bemused before he and Evan broke out into loud laughter. Giselle's 'naked' was Bobby walking around in a towel. "Common Elle," Evan sniggered, "Don't tell me that a flash of ankle gets you all hot and bothered!"

Giselle scowled with a red face, refusing to make eye contact with Bobby. "You've got a girlfriend, Bobby! And that is most certainly _not _just a mere bare ankle! You shouldn't-aahh, just put some clothes on!"

"Ok fine! It's like this is my room as well, Jesus!"

"…Are you decent now?"

"Yep, you can turn around."

She did, and then jumped behind the bed beet red. "BOBBY! You're in your boxers!"

"Aww, the baby's shy!"

When Bobby was finally actually dressed, Giselle started to wonder around the room. She hadn't paid attention to the last bed in the corner, but now noticed that it was well kept, clean and aired like hers. She gave it an approving look, her eyes wandering over the adjacent desk filled with pencils, papers and picture frames. "I think I much prefer your other roommate's area."

She picked up a silver frame containing a fuzzy photo of a family in front of a cabin drowning in snow, with pink faces and humble smiles.

"Oh right, yeah that's Peter's area." She instantly dropped the photo back in place and hurried back to Evan and Bobby.

Of _course_ it would be his. He was so irritatingly perfect; it was like he was mocking her with all the qualities she found attractive; hygienic, smart, kind (to everyone else) and not to mention godlike looks.

**Unrequited love has a horrible sense of humour. **

Surprisingly, progress had been made with Peter. While he still avoided her like the plague, never spoke to her and stared all the time, he always had this unreadable expression on his face. It was extremely confusing. Giselle gave him a small smile when she locked eyes with him once, but he then narrowed his eyes like she had just flipped him off. She had no idea what had changed between them apart from him witnessing Erin and her spat, but she couldn't muster the courage to even consider asking directly.

The last night marking Giselle's week anniversary at the Institute was spent in the common room with everyone deciding to pig out and watch The Sixth Sense. Bobby and Rogue were in their little corner being sickeningly cute, while Erin and John we in the very back on the room, occasionally inputting into conversations and being told where to go. Jubilee and Giselle were both on a sofa opposite the TV together, in charge of the Haribos and brownies (Scott didn't need to know about my slip in my diet) with Kitty (for some reason wielding the power of the remote) sitting on the floor with a fluffy red duvet. Another shock was the Peter had decided to tolerate Giselle's presence and sit with Evan by the other corner.

Giselle had watched this movie several times, being a fan of Bruce Willis and cheesy plot twists; however something was different about watching it this time.

First she felt as if the room was filled with a lot more people than she knew there actually were, all whispering through out the night. She kept asking for the volume to be turned up, until she realised it was only her (Jubilee told her she needed a hearing test).

Giselle kept getting shivers every time a 'ghost' was on screen, even though the makeup was flawed and the effect dulled by Kitty's constant commentary. The whispers around her kept laughing at some sort of inside joke, filling her with unease and a frustrating déjà vu. As odd as it was, she couldn't _hear _the voices, but knew that they were there, sensing them in some other way that she could not explain; they were jumbled with no distinguishing words or accents, just the changes of emotion evident in the volume and pitch.

The sofa was empty to the right of her, yet she _knew _that something was there. It terrified her. She kept staring at the empty spot, and was asked if she was all right by Jubilee when she kept shuffling away to the left. There was nothing there, but somehow, she _knew _that something was there, looking right at here. The fear she felt was overwhelming, the complete isolation that only she seemed to realise its presence. Her pulse beated sporadically in her over sensitive ears. Giselle waved her hand in the air around the empty seat, but felt nothing solid.

Eventually, she excused herself, not even bothering to give an excuse. She rushed out of the room in a feverish panic, not hearing Rogue calling her. Every shadow, every breeze felt like it was the presence following her. Giselle ran to her room and hid in her bed. In her shear terror, she was reduced to childish paranoia, too scared to undress or even come out under the duvet when she was feeling too hot. She drifted off in the foetal position, into disturbing dreams with thousands of white mists following her, though she did not remember any of this the moment her eyes opened in the morning.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The next few days, Giselle was jumpy and agitated, sneaking dark looks around corners and avoiding eye contact as if the whisperings would start if she did. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened since Sunday night, but she still had the sensation of being watched (though it was rather dim and nostalgic now). When interrogated by the girls later on by her manic exit, she attributed it to the aggression of her stomach, which they accepted easily as she had been guarding the popcorn with a masculine violence.

Her paranoia however was not so easy to explain. While the others found it amusing and weren't too bothered (they had only known her for a short time), Rogue was clairvoyant as ever, and kept sending Giselle knowing looks and squeezing her shoulder as silent messages of comfort.

Giselle had been dreading a confrontation with Rogue, as she had know idea how to explain herself.

_Sorry I've been acting weird but I believe I'm being stalked by bodiless voices, totally normally I know. _

She had never heard of this happening to any telepaths when they discovered their powers, so she was anxious about asking the Professor. While he stuck her a friendly, father like character with a gentle intelligence and understanding, she still wasn't attracted to the idea of talking to him about it, just in case it turned out that she was actually crazy and this wasn't some premeditation of her mutant abilities.

However, her internal debates were quenched when the Professor called to see her on the Thursday evening after Scott's training. Scott had given her the message after she had consumed her entire litre bottle of water like it was an elixir. He was back to his Boy Scout cheeriness, which was all in all a good thing, though he now had the lopsided grin back that he wore every time he deflected one of her punches or kicks. Giselle _really _hated that grin. He didn't mention his attitude on Saturday, and she made no attempt to, as she still felt a little out of bounds to do so; besides, she wasn't exactly an expert in the couples counselling area.

Giselle had been to Charles Xavier's office once before on arrival when he greeted them with a run down of the school rules and a welcoming 'good luck'. She now found herself there again in a rouge leather chair in front of the Professor, only separated by the varnished desk. The room itself was handsome and spoke a lot about it's owner as it mirrored his own classic upbringing from money, his appreciation for knowledge and leisurely past times and a want to be surrounded by friends and colleagues. The room had high walls, rows of shelves, many carpets and lounge chairs and a huge window behind the desk, looking down on a large expanse of the grounds.

Xavier himself was leaning his elbows on the metal contraption he sat in, its sheen and grey hue not blending well into the room. His nimble hands were leaning against each other under his chin at the tips, relaxed against his pressed collar and neutral tie. He wore his usual thoughtful expression, the only tension in his face were his brows, common in clever minds and oddly enough around his ears, though Giselle realised that was more attributed to a unique odd grouping of muscles rather than to his mutation or some sort of tick.

They both sat in a humble silence as she waited for Xavier to gather his thoughts, politely keeping her mind reserved and opening the shallow layer that she didn't mind him seeing. While she couldn't block his mind any better than a powerless human, she now knew that he could sense her dislike of him seeing other thoughts, and that she would feel him entering them if she consciously felt the need to guard them.

"Thank you for coming, Giselle. Tell me, how are you settling in?"

It was nice of the Professor to ask, Giselle thought, as he could find out the answer easily enough from her mind. She wondered if he found it irritating to have to be polite so as to not make other people uncomfortable.

"That is true, my dear, though I don't think that it would be very healthy for me to revert to never speaking properly to others." She blushed a little at her mind wandering off.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I didn't mean to not answer. The mansion is lovely and I've made a few friends already. Thank again for taking Erin and I in." Giselle had to make an effort to not seem bitter at the mention of Erin.

"I am glad to hear it. However while I have ben meaning to check in with you, this is not the only reason for seeing you. Rogue has informed me that you seem to be on edge recently. She was very worried out you, my dear." Xavier smiled fondly.

Giselle grimaced, knowing that she couldn't escape this conversation. "I thought that she would tell you. I've err, well I'm not sure how to explain it really. Its not exactly…a normal problem."

Xavier chuckled good naturedly. "I wouldn't dream of that in a home such as ours. Please, continue. Perhaps I can help you solve it, and make sense of it?"

"That would be…good." She smiled faintly and straightened her aching back. "Well, it started Sunday evening; we were watching The Sixth Sense, I know that doesn't seem relevant to mention, but I get the feeling it may be." She continued when he nodded. "I got the feeling that there was…someone there, sitting next to me, when there really wasn't. Then there were also these voices, that I could hear, but I…I'm not sure _how _but I just…_knew_?" Giselle groaned and leaned her head into her hands. "I'm really not explaining it very well, am I?"

Xavier laughed softly again. "You were right, that isn't the most common of events to occur at all."

"Ever since, I've been having this horrible feeling of being followed and watched, but I know that there's no one there. I feel like I'm going mental to be honest, sir!"

"May I look into your mind to when you watched the movie? I will be able to feel what you did, and perhaps…?"

"Of course, do you want me to err, lie down or anything?"

Xavier rolled around the desk and motioned for me to lean towards him. "That isn't necessary, Giselle. Please, just calm your mind. I won't invade your privacy."

Giselle consented by letting him place his hands around the temples and planes her face, with his fingers spread as far as his tendons would allow. Her brain felt suddenly cool inside, like a pleasant breeze from an open window as flowing around her brain. When the sensation finally left, she felt strangely too hot, though it was only her natural body temperature.

The Professor leaned back into his wheelchair with a knitted brow and his hands were grasped with a stronger grip. "It seems that these sensations are due to your mutation, however the presence you felt was indeed another organism. I am not entirely sure whether you are communicating with them subconsciously or if they are there of their own accord. There is no hostile emotions from them, but I would be cautious; come to me immediately if the situation progresses."

Giselle felt a queezy combination of relief and more paranoia. "T-Thank you, Professor. It's good to know I'm not going mad."

He smiled again, and she couldn't help to but compare it to the equally warm smiles Rogue gave her when she was worried about her (which now seemed to be al the time). "You should be on your way, I wouldn't dream of keeping you from your work and peers!"

She laughed. "Yes sir." She paused at his darker expression. "Is there… how is Erin doing?"

Xavier gave her a sorry look. "She is more closed in than you, I'm afraid. Her behaviour is still not exemplary, but I still believe that once she has adjusted, Erin will feel more at ease."

Giselle nodded and made her way towards the door. As she clasped to giant oval doorknob, Xavier spoke. "Giselle, be wary of this presence."

Panic set in again. "I thought you said they meant me no harm?"

"Not to you, no. But they were very…_defensive_ about me being in your mind. Just, do not be too trusting, and come to me even for the smallest change if you need to, my door is always open."

Giselle bade him goodbye and left. Charles Xavier grimaced and returned behind his desk, peering out of the floor length window and pondered whether he should have said more. He didn't want to scare her, but would certainly keep a mental tab on her if her emotions rose to a worrying level as they would if she felt in danger. He didn't elaborate on the emotions of the presence he felt, though they were limited as it suddenly closed him off when it felt his intrusion. He couldn't penetrate the block without Cerebro. However, while the connection was brief, he did feel the emotions he told Giselle of, just not the extent of them. His temples ached with the concentration he was using. This presence was not simply defensive, but…

_Possessive. _

**Short chapter I know, but I was more of a filler for the next events to unfold! I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed, followed and favourited this story, it means a get deal to me. I'm really excited for this story, and I'm glad others are as well! **

**Renzin xo**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_Subject: name unknown_

_Citing: Main entrance of Xavier's mansion, received by Jean Grey and Scott Summers, later by Rogue (mem. Ask for info at dinner). _

_Appearance: Estimated 5'9", black styled hair, possibly in 30's, leather jacket+white vest+jeans apparel (nb a motorcyclist- wore biker boots and helmet, grease on jeans suggest fast food on the go)._

_Army experience, stiff posture, gestured to Rogue's dog tags (originally his? Any relation?) _

_Obvious attraction to Grey, diluted eyes, long eye contact, puffed chest and straightened shoulders in her presence. Also nonverbal and verbal aggression to Summers, suggesting resentment. _

_In good physical shape, possible god complex as he seems to drink excessive amounts of alcohol and cigars, not caring about the consequences; heavy weight, has not shown any signs of inebriation even after finishing beer in fridge and discovering John's secret stash. _

_Canadian accent, though a little weak and blended with others, travels around a lot._

_Powers: ? _

Giselle frowned and tapped her pencil. She snorted humourlessly at the idea of cogs grinding in her brain and tucked a frizzy strand of hair out of the way, diverting her eyes back to the page.

Several minutes later, the same strand fell down to tickle her nose. Giselle was not in a good mood; her brain just wasn't working today, and at this point she was tempted to shave off all her hair. She glared at the offending strand as it only twitched when she blew at it. The pencil in her hand started to hammer at the page in irritation, leaving grey dents randomly on the page.

Eventually, she gave in on the staring match with her hair (that didn't even have any eyes to stare at her with back) and pushed the pencil and paper onto the carpet floor next to her. She got up and made her way to the bathroom, grabbing a fluffy bobble she vaguely remembered Kitty throwing at her previously.

While being at the mansion certainly more relaxing than being at the Stonewalls, Giselle had to admit that she was getting lazy with her appearance. Having your school and home in the same place was starting to get to her, and she was at the point where pjs were starting to look like ok public apparel for class.

_You're a heratic to you known views on public decency, Kraus._

Giselle looked in the mirror, huffing at the sorry mess she looked like. How could she be so happy and unfashionable at the same time. She could half blame it on the _presence _that had been lurking about her, but the day after she spoke to Xavier, it seemed to disappear. There was a moment when she snuck out in the rain again that she felt like _it_ was running with her (or after her, depending on your view point), which terrified her so much she ran back inside and refused to leave any area without another person in for the rest of the day.

_Dear lord, snap out of it! _

Action had to be taken; she was sick of the grey hoodie she had worn three times already this week, and it wasn't a good thing that it matched the colour of the bags under her eyes. Her hair's usual healthy sheen was getting greasy, and her nails were growing to point where they needed to be cut or they would inhibit her piano playing. It was quite ironic really, that Erin had spent so much time belittling her appearance, but a few weeks of avoiding each other and _then_ Giselle's pristineness had cracked. At least Erin's disappearance meant that she hadn't seen Giselle's fall from grace – yet.

_Slap yourself! Here's the battle plan: how about you take a long wash, choose that black dress with the gold lace trim you haven't worn since last Christmas that you love and dig yourself out of this depression! Since when does you being a mutant mean you have to look like a mess?! _

Well, her conscience _did _have a point.

She stripped quickly and collected her clothes, throwing the old ones away into the washing basket by the door. Once the bathroom was locked by both doors, she grabbed her shampoo and conditioner, deciding to treat herself with the pair that smelt of apples and strawberries.

Giselle was one of those people who didn't realise she was stressed until afterwards. She was also a person who found cleaning and showering therapeutic to say the least. She didn't even notice how tense she had been, hunched over on the floor writing her notes, but now she could feel every tense muscle aching under the hot spray of the shower water. She scrubbed away until her skin literally squeaked, and proceeded to remove the dirt from her hair.

45 minutes later, Giselle was strolling around her room, lazily combing the ends of her damp hair. She was wearing a stupid grin, not caring that she looked like a drowned street rat when her hair was plastered to her skull the way it was. Most of the time drying her hair, she sang into the flow of hot air, giggling manically and the robotic effect it had on her voice.

Eventually however, she came down from her high and returned to her notes, her mind running back to the figure she had seen earlier this morning. It was obvious every one had known him, and that his reputation was eloquent to say the least, though possibly varied from the different greetings he received. Most of the adults hugged him and smiled, as did Rogue and nearly all the other students. However the only ones who stayed away or gave him cold looks and remarks were Scott, Bobby, John, Erin (though the latter two hated everyone) and a few of the smaller students who seemed quite scared of him.

He was probably a powerful mutant, with a strong personality; but what was his power? She grimaced as she pieced together various information she had gathered, but then it struck her.

**Aggressive mutation, feral with strong healing factor that renders the Wolverine practically immortal; alcohol, smoking or any other type of substance abuse does not affect him. Has retractable claws, previously bone but now replaced with adamantium. **

Giselle wrote this all down, dropping the page when she realised what she had just wrote. It was impossible, how could she know that? And that title, 'The Wolverine', was that his code-name, like 'Cyclobs' and 'Storm'? The aggression could easily be seen, but he gave no indication of what his powers actually were…

She shook her head and sniffed a little. She was always accurate; she _knew_ she was right, but the question was _how? _

Rogue was talking to 'The Wolverine' in the hallway of the men's wing when she found them. The former was wearing an excited grin that broke away at her usually calm exterior, and she was clinging onto the leather arms of the man's jacket. Giselle approached cautiously, greeting them when they noticed her.

"Elle! There ya' are, ya'll been in ya' room fer the entire day!"

Giselle smiled a little, slightly stiff in a stranger's presence. She didn't like the way his narrowed eyes were assessing her; perhaps this is how other people felt when she did it to them? "Just finishing some work, you know, the usual. Who is your _friend_?"

"Logan." He grunted before Rogue could reply. He looked straight at Giselle, as she was practically his height, though she felt like he was a lot taller. She noiselessly straightened and stared back at him. If this _was _a feral, then he would probably take strong eye contact as a good way of judging character.

"He's the one who brought me ta' Xavier's, Elle, an' he saved me at the statue of liberty as well! He's just got back from travelling around an' such!" Rogue looked ecstatic at the idea.

Giselle softened a little; if Rogue spoke so highly of him, Logan couldn't be _so _bad. She made a conscious effort to smile a little wider at him. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Giselle."

Logan raised an eyebrow at her. "Tell me, kid. Why haven't you said hello before, you've been stalking me the entire day."

**Ferals have heightened senses; he smelt and heard you when you observed him in hiding. **

She blushed, but Rogue answered for her. "Nah, Giselle likes ta' make notes on new people an' all that, she wasn't gonna jump ya', Logan."

"You wouldn't be able to if you tried, kid." He growled.

Giselle resisted the urge to throw some painful retort at him; perhaps Scott and the others had a point about disliking this guy. "I'm _sure_ I wouldn't." She snapped. "Rogue, Jubilee's looking for you, something about looking at your Chemistry homework. I will see you later, perhaps." Giselle stiffly nodded at Logan, turning her back to him swiftly as she left. She had no idea _why, _but she found him so irritating!

After a few moments she groaned at herself; the whole point of this meeting was to find out whether she was right about his power! The feral bit was correct and the healing factor was plausible, but she had no idea about the adamantium claws!

Giselle was in such a stormy mood, she didn't notice someone right ahead of her until her lowered head smashed into their hard chest. She yelped a little, clutching her head in pain and staggered backwards.

"_Oy der'mo__! Ty v poryadke? O!_Giselle...?"

Giselle lifted her head up a little, still massaging her temples. She blushed furiously when she realised that Peter was the one she had crashed into. "I-I'm sorry? I don't understand you…"

Why was he just staring at her? Was her humiliation not enough already?

She could see it now, personified figures of fate, death, and a few other gods looking down and laughing their head off at her predicament. How amusing her life must be…

Peter wanted to punch himself for feeling so paralysed. Why couldn't he say anything! He couldn't avoid her forever, and he'd promised Evan and Bobby that he would go apologise for giving her the cold shoulder. He couldn't help but sigh at the memory.

"_What the fuck, Pete! Why do you keep staring at Elle like you want to skin her!" _

"_Yeah, dude, its kinda creepy." _

"_I have _no _idea what you-"_

"_Mate, just give it a rest, even my aunt asked me what was going on between you two!" Evan yelled. _

_Peter paled a little. "Ororo has noticed?" _

"Everyone's _noticed, Pete!" Bobby said, "She's not like her sister, she's our friend! You're making her feel really uncomfortable!" _

_Peter's mood darkened at the mention of Erin, the _nevynosimoy devushka_. She had the audacity to say such rude things about the photos of his family, and then expect him to willingly sleep with him! He hated people like that, who had no morals! At first, it was true that he thought Giselle was the same, however he quickly realised she wasn't; besides, the others wouldn't speak so well of her if she was! But it was easier to pretend to dislike her then try to talk to her. Every time he watched her, his chest would constrict and his ears would grow hot, his mouth parched and he gained the embarrassing desire to touch her creamy skin. She was so beautiful! Like a doll, with her long curls and feminine dresses; he wanted to be able to run his hands through her roots and nip her neck-_

"_Err…Pete? Yo, tinman, you still there?"_

"_What? Sorry I didn't…" Evan and Bobby stared at his blush for a moment, then their eyes widened comically at the same time. Bobby started frantically pointing at him while Evan burst out laughing at him, an idiotic grin on his face. "DUDE!" _

"_What's so funny?!"_

_Evan stumbled over and clasped his shoulder, sniggering as he tried to maintain his long lost composure. "Sorry to tell you this, man, but you're in deep."_

"_I don't-"_

"_It's so obvious! How could we have not seen it before!"_

"_Seen _what_ before! Bobby, Evan, tell me-" Peter stopped when he realised what they were insinuating. _

"_Dude, talk about M.I.A!" _

"_Pete, why didn't you tell us? We could help you!" Bobby said sympathetically. _

_Peter was now permanently scarred for life. His face resembled a tomato, the lopes of his ears painfully hot. "I don't _need _your help, Bobby. And get the lunatic to shut up!" Evan's howling was really quite loud. _

_However Evan stopped anyway to give Pete an evil grin. "Oh! So you admit it! Ha! Man of Metal my ass! You're a softy like Bobby is with Rogue!" _

_Peter groaned, falling back onto his bed and rubbed his face with fatigue. There was no point denying these hound dogs now. "What do I do? She hates me, every time I look at her, she looks like she's about to make me explode or something!"_

_Evan and Bobby exchanged a look then burst into more laughter. It took them a while to calm down, but eventually under Peter's stony gaze, they did. "Sorry Pete, she said something similar about you." Bobby smirked. _

_Peter snapped his head back up in horror. He hadn't been _that _hostile when he thought she was like Erin, had he? Was the situation not redeemable? "She hates me, doesn't she? What did she…"_

"_She asked if you had Scott's power, you know, the whole laser eye thing. But no, I don't think she hates _you, _but Giselle think you hate _her, _which to be honest makes more sense, man." _

_He wasn't _that_ mean, was he? Then Peter remembered when he had rudely told her to move out of the way when she was in front of the refrigerator, and how terrifyingly small she looked… _

Bog,_ he was an idiot. _

_Didn't she hate him for listening in on her conversation with Erin? She practically ran out of the room in tears afterwards…_

"_It doesn't matter now, anyway. Just forget about it guys." _

_Bobby's mouth dropped. "Why the hell would we do that? Just throw some Russian charm at her, she forgive you like that!" he clicked his fingers, tiny icicles falling onto the floor when he did. _

"_I don't think that'll-"_

"_Peter, just shut up, and listen to the masters, 'kay?" _

She looked so…womanly in black; the dress was lower cut around the breasts, and Peter's height gave him a rather spectacular view of them, which made his gut curdle uncomfortably. He tried to force his eyes onto her face, but that produced an even worse reaction. The fabric was light and flared at the hips, ending below the knees with a top layer of gold lace, which shimmered with every slight movement she made. She looked like the Heidi doll his sister Illyana used to play with, with rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes. It was odd to think that a person could actually look like that. Her glassy eyes were clear and powerful, twitching as she looked at every part of him. He opened his mouth to say something, but it suddenly felt dry and cracked, and he forgot how to form words.

"Ok! I understand, you hate me, just please, I beg you, stop glaring at me all the time! I'd rather we just ignored each other, ok?" Giselle rambled.

Peter's eyes widen a little, so she really did think that he hated her, how absurdly far from the truth! "No." He huffed.

Giselle's eyes widened and her forehead tightened in surprise. "No…? Why-"

"I don't hate you, Giselle." His accent was like honey, doing wonderful things to her ears as they hummed. He didn't hate her! Hope raised its beautiful head a little.

"Then _why_ have you been err…you know…"Giselle trailed off intelligently.

"Being rude?" She nodded and blushed. "At first, I was silly enough to think that you were like your sister."

"She's _not _my sister!" Giselle snapped, then blanched at little at the giant. "Sorry…touchy subject."

"You don't get along?"

"Not really, we haven't spoken since…that music lesson a few weeks ago, if you understand what I'm talking about."

Peter felt like hitting himself, she probably thought that he was spying on her (which he was). "_Prosti menya_, I did not mean to intrude… but you did the right thing, saying no to Erin."

Giselle gasped a little. "I-I did?"

"_Da_-yes, I mean. She would not have stopped."

She fidgeted with the helm of her dress like a schoolgirl talking to her crush (which she was, really). While she was wrought with giddiness and nervousness, she still wished that he had never heard that conversation even if in hindsight that was probably when he realised Erin and her were nothing alike. "Well, thank you, I suppose."

Peter furrowed his brow. "Why are you thanking me, Giselle?"

"To be honest, I'm not really sure," She laughed weakly, but brightened when he actually smiled for the first time at her. "I guess for you to tell me this, for letting us clear the air, as it were."

"We are good, _da?"_

"Erm, '_da'_? I don't understand…"

Peter coloured again, rubbing his hand through the short black hair on his head nervously. "Sorry, English is my second language, and I know that my accent can be confusing, as Kitty tells me. '_Da'_, means 'yes', you see." Why was he slipping into the mother tongue all of a sudden?

Giselle couldn't help but giggle, but she stifled it with the nape of her wrist as she tried to pass it off as coughing. She couldn't help it; she was a sucker for foreigners, even though she didn't have any other past romances per se to compare to. "It's fine, I was just wondering."

"So we are…friends, _da-_yes?" She chuckled at his apologetic smile and nodded.

"Yes…I'd like that a lot." _Friends! _She tried to maintain her calm exterior, but turned even redder when he cocked an eyebrow at her. Was she…_flirting? _Giselle shook herself mentally, taking a deep breath to clear her mind as discreetly as possible. "I should go…because…Kitty!" She gulped her glee down and chilled her expression as much as possible, "Kitty is waiting for me…"

"Wha- oh sorry, I'll move." Peter jumped out of the way like a rabbit and watched her rush down the hall. "_Zhdat_, Giselle!"

Her long hair whipped around her like a cartoon as she turned back to him. "Yes…Peter?"

Peter couldn't help but grin madly when she said his name. "You are a very good artist, _da? _Could we sit together in Miss Monroe's class next time, you know for err, comparing…techniques?" He wanted to hit himself again, though possible with something _very _hard, like a falling jet.

Giselle smiled sweetly, dazed by his blinding smile. "Of course we can. Goodbye, Peter." She reluctantly walked away, slightly dizzy and really craving the urge to actually find Kitty and getting her opinion on this turn of events.

Peter made sure that she had definitely turned the corner before jumping around a few times, blissfully punching the air with glee.

**Oy der'mo****! Ty v poryadke? O! - Oh crap! Are you ok? Oh!**

**Nevynosimoy****devushka****- unbearable girl**

**Bog - god**

**Prosti menya - forgive me**

**Da - yes**

**Zhdat - wait**

**NB – I have never spoken a word of Russian in my life, I used google translate for this, so I'm sorry if my translation are incorrect! **

**Another shorter chapter as I'm into my hardcore revision mode (I am one of those special children who is doing 6 alevels, 5 of them either maths or science yayyyy), so I'm trying to keep the updates as regular as possible. At the moment, this is the story I'm paying the most attention to, so if any of you are reading my others, I'm sorry but I'll be much better in three weeks after the exams are over. I can't imagine how irritating it is for people who don't have any exams to have to wait around because the writer of a story they are reading does! **

**Anyyyyyyway, I'd like to thank you guys for all the wonderful reviews! They were so lovely, and constructive, thank you! I'm really excited that you guys are curious about what Giselle's power will be, I can't wait to reveal it ahhh! **

**Restraint, Renzin, use the force. **

**Pffft what the heck I have no restraint! **

**So Logan makes an appearance! And Peter's asshat ways are revealed! I realise how cliché it is, but well, peter is usually portrayed as a shy guy, but very loyal and stuff. When he thought Giselle was a meanie like Erin, he was all set on keeping the little kids and his friends away from them, but then of course he realises he was wrong and is developing a case of goo goo eyes. **

**I really need to shut up before I spill anymore precious beans **

**Bye! **

**Renzin xo **


	7. authors note :D

Authors Note:

I'm sorry! I don't really have any excuse other than exams exams exams!

Thankfully I only have this week and the next left, and next week is the really easy peasy exams (crit thinking pffft).

I have NOT forgotten this sorry, the next chapter is already written, just need to edit it, and besides I'm addicted to these characters now, I never want to abandon them.

Thank you so much for all the praise, criticism and support you guys have given me, its so overwhelming and makes me feel all gushy inside (heh).

I'm glad you guys are curious about the 'presence' and what not, but soon all will be revealed! (eventually).

Lastly, for all who asked, don't worry, Logan will stick around and make more appearances. I'm slightly AU-ing on the X2 plot a but, since usually when he arrives is the night when the students are kidnapped yada yada yada…

I wanted to spend a lot more time on school life for Giselle and friends, so the events of the movie won't happen too quickly!

Again thank you fans! Peace and Pizza!

Renzin xooxoxo


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"WOOOOOWW Wow wow wow! Back track babe, ok? So he apologized and stuff for the cold-shouldering, then he-" Kitty rambled.

"-Asked you on a date?" Jubilee squealed.

Giselle flushed furiously. "It's not a date, it's just art-"

"Whatever!" Jubilee and Kitty snarled.

"Common sugah, it's tha' two of ya' sittin' next ta' each otha', workin' together, talkin', getting' cozy and shit. Ah think it's as close as ya'll are gunna get, in class time tha' is."

Giselle gave Rogue a withering glare at her betrayal, but it was diluted by the idiotic grin that had crept up onto her face. The other three girls returned it with their own sly smirks.

"Gotta start somewhere!" Jubilee chirped.

Kitty bounced back onto her chair, clinging back onto the table with the tips of her manicured nails to retain her balance. "Elle, you're blushing so hard I'm kinda shocked you haven't started laying eggs yet."

"Do I look like a feathered animal to you?"

"To be honest, I think she wouldn't mind that if the daddy was Peter."

"JUBILEE!"

"Oh common, don't deny it-OW! Did I really deserve that?"

"Please tell me you're joking!"

"Ya'll need ta' just SHUT UP!"

"Well well, _whose _the mother hen now, my dear Rogue?"

"What the hell is with all the fucking noise!" Logan roared as he entered the kitchen. The four girls gave sickeningly sweet smiles, saying in unison "Nothing!"

Logan narrowed his eyes, and growled. "The fuck that was nothin'. Marie, are ya' gonna tell me what ya'll are so fucking excited about?"

Giselle glared at Rogue, demanding her silence. She'd be mortified if anyone but the girls knew of her bashful crush on the Metal man. Thankfully, Rogue was loyal in her answer. "Don't worry Logan, ya' just walked in onna good ol' girly chat about...err.."

"About?" He prompted with a smirk, smelling the lie in her scent.

"TAMPONS!" Jubilee shrieked the idea out loud without thinking, burning red when Kitty flung a hand over her mouth.

Giselle gave a weak smile at Logan, who suddenly looked green, the cigar in his mouth quivering precariously. "Well, you did ask." The feral grimaced, quickly retrieved a beer from the fridge and exited hastily, muttering under his breath about 'too much information' and 'hormonal frails'. Immediately after they left, Jubilee started wailing loudly, while the others fell into hysterical laughter.

After Scott's training session, he took Giselle down to the medical bay again as he had done the first time they had trained. After running the same tests of taking a blood sample, recording pulse and heart beat and so on, Scott formulated the results and appeared again with a smug grin on his face, strands of brown hair vibrating with his vigorous swagger. Giselle raised an apprehensive eyebrow at him as he sat on the medical bed next to her.

"Do I _want_ to know why you're such a energetic mood, Scott?"

He snorted, his grin stretching to the edges of his face. "Of course! Why would my happiness be bad for you?"

Giselle groaned and covered her face with her hands. "Just tell me my test results, and tell me how many more hours of training I have now. I want this to be as quick and painless as possible."

"You're too pessimistic."

"Well, you _would _think that, wouldn't you?"

"Ohhhh mouthy today!"

"Scott, please, _spare_ me the sunshine that is your humour."

"Fine, if the lady wishes it." Scott sighed dramatically. "Drumroll please….ok! So you're BMI four weeks ago was 24.4, height 175.26cm, 75kg."

"I am aware of what I used to weigh Scott, no need to rub it in!"

"Jesus, I'm not! It's just cooler if I say what you were before so that you can compare!"

"Argggh fine! What is it now then?" Giselle threw her arms in the air, huffing.

"I'm not sure if I should tell you now."

"Scott! Stop toying with my emotions! A woman's health is a touchy subject!" Giselle whined.

"Well if you appreciated my training, I don't think-"

"I'm sorry, I _really_ enjoy our sessions, smelling of old cheese and salt was really what I wanted to achieve here."

"Really, _that's _how you smell when you sweat?"

"Well, you would know, wouldn't you?"

"I do. I think you're sweat's more…like fish!"

"You're a real Casanova, you know that? Jean's a very lucky-"

"IS THAT TWO LAPS AROUND THE SCHOOL I HERE?"

"Scooootttt!" Giselle whimpered, "That's unfair, I'm in a delicate state of mind, with all this talk of weight! Take pity on the mutant with no mutation?"

Scott calmed down enough from her pouting puppy face to continue. "Ok ok, I suppose if you're reduced to begging. Right, so you _were_ 24.4, which was close to the obese section but still healthy (though not low enough if you want to train with the others soon of course). You haven't grown significantly since, BUT you have lost 4.8 kg, giving you a BMI of 22.9! So rejoice! You're not going to die of a heart attack!"

"I wasn't that fat! My stomach was practically flat!"

"Yeah, as flat as the motorway, kid."

"I hate you."

"And for that, we're doing an extra 100 push ups and sit ups from now on." The look of despair in Giselle eyes made Scott realise a booming laugh at her left her.

Giselle, Evan and Jubilee entered the music classroom on Friday afternoon, making their way towards the woodwind instruments, as Ororo had told them they needed to stop sitting there if Giselle was the only one actually using the keyboards. As of consequence, they had decided to take over the recorder section, though at one point during the lesson, Jubilee became ambitious and tried the flute. Somehow or the other, her earring fell of into one of the holes when they were pushed open, and Evan had to grow a few hand sized spikes to try and fish it out. After 15 minutes of failure, Giselle decided to enlighten them to the fact that you could take the flute apart.

"That's kinda sadistic Elle, you know that? Lettin' us panic like that!" Evan glowered at said traitor, who merely smirked with a cocked brow.

"Yeah, his aunt would've stuck _us _down the flute, then electrocuted us or something!"

"_Please_, are you saying that you wouldn't have done the same?" She traced the ridge of one of the holes on her polished recorder, "And besides, it was an educational experience for you two!"

"Gee, thanks Sherlock."

"My pleasure young padewans."

After avoiding a hot red spark from Jubilee and the following scolding from Ororo for endangering the life of the instruments, they were banished from the woodwind section to relocate at an oblong desk, situated in the centre of the bookcases. Giselle stiffened a little when she felt a faint stab in her stomach at recognising the section where she and Erin had last spoken. Automatically she sat and looked over to the blonde, who was reclining against John's shoulder near the window with a dog-eared magazine and signature leer. He was absent-mindedly playing with a tiny braid in her mohawk that had a tiny green bead on the end.

She quickly looked away before either of them noticed her longing stare; at that moment, resentment bubbled along with the hot corrosion of anger. She knew it was childish, but she couldn't help fantasize about what could have been, and though it was a useless venture, she blamed John for finally causing the break in her and Erin's friendship.

No, not friendship, more like…familiarity, companionship, tolerance.

But it could've been more.

John was likely just a catalyst for the inevitable; Giselle knew that she would've dropped the pretence of keeping in touch with Erin if they had stayed with the Stonewalls after graduating; even if it wasn't for her foster sister's endearing personality, she would just be another reminder on the heavy depression of the household. Giselle didn't realise how much she loathed her time there until she had tasted the healthy air of Xavier's, where they were all connected, like one huge organism.

Being at the mansion had changed her attachment to Erin however. Giselle thought that they had found a bond stronger than simply coexisting at the Stonewalls, being mutants together and being whisked away to a new home, new friends, a new life.

Should she have immediately sort out Erin in the first morning? If she were there when Erin met John, could she have prevented her replacement?

If John had met Erin on the street months before, Giselle wouldn't have particularly cared apart from the sad foreboding pity that she felt for Erin at times. Yet that was what it felt like now, that she hadn't been important enough to be closer to Erin.

She thought it must have stemmed from their first encounter with the Xmen, when she had stood up for Erin against the Stonewalls; it had not been particularly personal, for she would have done the same for any other mutant. They were her kin in her mind now. But once she had seen the shock and glow of happiness from Erin, Giselle realised that she would now want to see this through with her, together.

Admittedly, she had been hoping for them to truly see one another as sisters. She hadn't expected it immediately, or even for a few years, but the possibility was comforting.

If it wasn't for Giselle's luck that she had found such great friends at the mansion, she knew she would be pathetically depressed, even though she could deal with a lack of social contact much better than most people.

She jumped and blinked rapidly when Jubilee flicked her nose, then scowled at her playfully.

"Your brain gears were grinding, kiddo!" she hooted.

Giselle huffed and crossed her arms. "That endearment is false; we're the same age!"

"_That endearment is false! _Evan did you hear?" She replied in a mock British accent.

Evan quickly picked up the act. "Oh my! Lady Jubes, I do believe so!"

They both fell into a calamity of cackling, leaving Giselle to shake her head and continue her thoughts by the Thompson piano grade books section. Her mind settled on her talks with the Professor, which she had mixed feelings about; on one hand, she was giddy with spending time with the intellectual, eager like a school child receive an award from their headmaster. They now met every week or so in his office, where he would delve into her mind (literally) and sort through all the webs of information she had there, as Xavier is nicely put it. He was now certain that her mutant ability had actually been working at a low power for many years, confirmed when she told him about every odd burst of knowledge she could remember throughout her life. He relived these events with her through her mind's eye, and a few as young as 4 years old that she hadn't even remembered.

The time in kindergarten when she replaced her crayons for knew ones because she knew the other child at her table had been chewing them, even though it had been hours before when she wasn't in the class and the waxy utensil held no trace of saliva.

When she refused to share her bottle with a girl in PE who turned out to have glandular fever a few days later.

When she made eye contact with her 6th grade English teacher and knew that he had an extensive of abusing Hispanic individuals because his mother had left at a young age with one, leaving him with an all too distant father to endure. She knew that it was nearly always verbal, but that he had avoided arrest in a bar fight with a Hispanic man he taunted last Christmas, tarring all of that culture with the same brush he had used for his stepfather. Out of concern, Giselle had anonymously told their head of year when the teacher began openly picking on the students in his class of that culture.

The earliest one Xavier could find was the most harrowing. At the age of 4, she had been running along the corridors of her foster home when she had bumped into a boy twice her age reading a harry potter novel on the ground. She remembered him vividly now, remembered her fascination with his tangle of vibrant red upon his head, matching flutter of freckles and translucent brown eyes. Giselle embarrassingly realised that she had been infatuated enough with his looks to say that he was her first crush, all the more so with Xavier feeling all that she felt as they watched through her young eyes.

However something had been wrong with those eyes that should have held some sort of emotion, were in actual fact blank, too dead to even be hostile. With the bravery of her youth, she had poked his soft cheek, then started crying shrilly as flashes of this older boy slashing with a rusting knife, a maniacal look in his eyes, orange jumpsuit viciously clashing with his now hollow and dirtied features. The strength of the passion of bloodlust paled the currently bored eyes even more so in comparison.

The 4 year old Giselle had scurried away and wept, avoiding the boy with all he might, and that other worldly sense of knowing if he was around the corner, or in a room she was about to enter. Two years later he left, and she managed to see a glimpse of him only a handful of times to her relief.

She was now very partial to the idea that some people came into this world tainted already with evil.

Xavier had hastily pulled them out of the memory and comforted Giselle, who was now sobbing hysterically, the vision of the boys' future crimes still swimming in her head. Xavier also, had a haunted look in his eye as her comforted her. Before she left that session, she remembered their brief conversation.

"_Professor? I saw his future transgressions, didn't I?"_

"…_Yes, I believe so, my dear. I'm sorry for letting you see that, I shouldn't have let my curiosity get the better of me and listened to-" He paused abruptly, with a furrowed brow and a light cough. _

"_Listened…to whom, Professor?" When he didn't answer, she continued. "Was it…him?"_

_Xavier looked up startled. "_Him?_ How do you know the gender?"_

"_I just do." She gave a bland chuckle, still dwelling in a morose mood, "As usual." _

_Xavier clasped his hands and reclined back in his wheelchair in deep contemplation. "You are right, it was…_him._ He, not in words, sent…I suppose the best metaphor is pulses of warning, that I was overstepping a boundary. In my inquisitive state, I foolishly continued, believing that I would know when to stop. As of consequence, he seems to have ejected me out of your mind with a punishing headache."_

"_I have aspirin if you want, sir?"_

"_That won't be necessary," he chuckled with a small smile that quickly faded with worry "I'm not sure that this presence is an extension of your mind, Giselle."_

"_...Oh…that's not…is that bad?"_

"_He's causing no harm, as far as I can tell, and his hostility to me seems to be because he believed that I was trying to enter your mind against your will."_

"_Why is he there?" Giselle was feeling extremely spooked; could this person see all her thoughts? Her friends, the mansion, Peter? _

_Oh dear lord._

_Her cheeks burned furiously that the thought. She, being an independent sort where seclusion came naturally, found this disturbing to be laid bare as it were. _

"_I can't honestly say I know, my dear. This person must be a mutant, perhaps one who shares the same mutation as you? It is quite possible that some sort of connection has been established, purposely I don't know." _

"_I see, that's…I hope that's not you're attempt at trying to comfort me, Professor."_

"_I wouldn't dream of it," He said with a good-natured titter, which also faded into a weathered, worried expression that made Giselle shift uneasily in her chair. "It is not my intention to frighten you, but I fear we are too much in the dark to be too contented, Giselle. I want to continue these sessions, and branch out to trying to manipulate this mutation, to wok out what is triggering it. If this anonymous roommate in your mind starts to do anything out of the ordinary, tries to communicate, scare you, anything, you _must _tell me immediately. Is that understood?"_

_A little startled by his change of mood, Giselle merely nodded, a thousand new thoughts spiralling around her mind. She hadn't fully understood that she could be in _danger_, though it was blindingly obvious that it was wise to be cautious. _

"_How will I induce my powers, Professor? They seem to just, well happen!"_

"_Perhaps it is best to approach this as one would with a telekinetic; usually one would start by trying to move small objects, such as this paper weight." Xavier gestured minutely to the thumb sized bronze figurine of what looked to be some sort of Gaelic warrior roaring to the heavens. "However, instead of moving the object, in your case the objective would be to acquire information on it."_

"_Such as how it was made, who owned it, that sort of thing?" _

"_Precisely. I understand that you have a keen mind in your observations, my dear. It's a stimulating endeavour to document your thoughts on the world around you, and is perhaps evidence of what we believe your mutation to be."_

"_Do you…wait, are you suggesting I've subconsciously chosen my mutation _myself_? I don't think I would've been as obnoxious to chose a power I barely understand or can control!" _

_Xavier twiddled his thumbs, the usual gleam in his eyes returning. "Not exactly, but I believe that there is a connection to one's personality; it is more likely that we are shaped by our abilities, rather than the other way around. For example Miss Grey and myself are telepaths, and while it may be a stereotype to say so, we both are fairly immersed in literature and knowledge."_

"_In other words, high intelligent. I see your point; so Logan- err, Mr Wolverine's more aggressive approaches stem from the fact that he is a feral mutant."_

"_Quite so, I do hope…_'Mr Wolverine'_, hasn't got onto your bad side? I wouldn't want to see what your notes say about him!"_

_Giselle stuck out her jaw stubbornly, "Only the truth, Professor, merely an observation." _

_He laughed and tilted his head to the side slightly. "I'm sure, Giselle, that Logan will show his more admirable qualities to you in good time."_

_She huffed a little, but decided not to pursue the conversation. "How long have I…not been alone in my mind, Professor? Wouldn't I feel something, a sort of sensation like I do with you when you enter my mind?"_

_Xavier patted her hand sympathetically, but with a determined look on his face, frustrated with his lack of hard fact and their replacements of theories and hypothesis'. "I'm sorry but I cannot be certain; a lot of your mind is closed off to me, and while I can penetrate it, it would cause your discomfort that I don't want you to suffer with the possibility of finding out another way. I also don't want to force the mutation to develop when you are not ready; it is better to let these things happen naturally."_

"_I feel unsafe, sir."_

"_Do you feel like you're being followed still?"_

"_Not exactly, more someone in the sky's watching me." She sighed and scraped a hand over her scalp, along the parting of her mane of curls, "I don't mean to sound religious, and he doesn't seem to have any divine gleam about him, but I don't have any other way of wording it."_

"_I understand. We shall continue with our plans, and please, come to me if there is any change in the situation. My door is always open, even if you feel like discussing something other than your mutation."_

"_Don't worry sir, you must be very busy, I wouldn't want to upset your efficiency of working."_

"_My dear, my work is this school, the residents my family. That includes you, and also your wellbeing. No matter how trivial, if you feel the need for assistance, we are here to help, to lend our views, our company, anything, Giselle. If it is important to you, it is important to me."_

No matter how many times Giselle had heard school councillors and teachers, foster careers, friends, say those words, she never sort out their help or believed that it wouldn't be a waste of time. On those occasions when she faced a wall of sorts, she knocked it down herself, or endeavoured to build a bridge or catapult over in this analogy of hers. Recluses like herself were not dependant on others, and until recently, Giselle hadn't thought of anyone as dearly to want their input.

The words '_family' _struck her like a snowball. Did she consider the Professor a father? He certainly held a paternal role in the mansion. But perhaps he wasn't trying to make himself like a foster father to her, but a guardian, a rock to lean on.

She liked that better, Giselle thought. Admittedly Kitty, Jubilee and Rogue were far closer than she and Erin ever were, and she didn't feel that clenching denial in her neck when she imagined referring to them as sisters. Though they had only known each other a short time, Giselle realised that she wouldn't feel squeamish about that idea after a while.

Thinking of anyone else in the mansion as a family member made her slightly uncomfortable, but not in a bad way, like she would when with the Stonewalls. It was more a fear of the unknown. With patience and open eyes, she could get used to that idea, however it would be foolish to latch onto that frame of mind so soon.

Giselle thought she would feel relief at the discovery of proof that she was actually a mutant. The jokes, while good-natured, were getting to be irritating and frankly pitiful (though she was bias).

However while it was riveting to here that her speciality lay in her studies of the world around her related to her mutation (which was like realising you work at your dream job in a sense), the chill of this presence unnerved her. Giselle had a harrowing feeling that he was also connected to her mutation, and that he somehow monitored all the information she consciously drew out, like a guard at a citadel gate. Without a doubt, she knew that she only knew his gender because he let her find out.

Acknowledging him seemed to speed up the heightening of her senses now. At first, he had been a shadow that she was terrified of since watching The Sixth Sense. Then it had calmed to a humming purr at the back of her mind, not threatening in anyway, but content to sooth her. Giselle was angry at herself that it seemed to be working, and she was getting restful about sharing her mind. She rarely spoke for long amounts of time about her thoughts to anyone, not in such explicit detail, and here was this presence seeing everything she saw, everything she thought or felt…

Her eye caught Peter in the corner, and her mouth became very dry. His nose was being prodded at with the spine of a banjo by a group of younger students, all surrounding him cross-legged, as they were absorbed in their wide-eyed fascination with him. Giselle hungrily stared at him, drinking in every detail she could. His hair had recently been trimmed again, the streamlined buzz cut on the sides flowing up from the planes of his face in militant order. His soft blue orbs were crossed over for the entertainment of the children, whose outrageous laughter pulled a ribbon of a giggle form her mouth.

Peter snapped his head towards her and locked her in place from across the room. She inadvertently steeled herself for the glare she was so accustomed to, and had to beat down a flurry of confusion when he tilted the corners of his mouth up, in turn wrinkling the corners of his eyes like paper. Her ears grew hot when she remembered their rendezvous in the corridor and the way his gaze made her stomach churn like it was now.

In horror, she realised that she'd continued staring, and Peter's smile was weakening in confusion at her lack of response. Her face spazmmed into a tense smile with twitching eyes, before she hastily ducked and pretended to be interested in the twelve bar exercise that danced along page 8 of the grade book she was holding.

It took all her self-restraint to not hit herself against the spine of her innocent book then and there.

**Hello! My name is Elder Renzin! And I would like to share with you the most amazing chapter! **

**Heh.**

**Review, favourite and follooooowwww! **

**Renzin xoxo**


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Thursday did not start as Peter had planned.

His usual routine consisted waking at dawn for his morning run, returning in time for Evan to be awake enough to slam his alarm back into snooze. His roommates were certain that he was crazy, willingly rising at such early times, but he had done so for as long as he could remember. Before he would wake to start a new fire in the stove for _Mat' _and start the chores. Nowadays, he liked to be outside when the song of the birds was clearest, the thin mists swirled in your vision, and the chilly bite of the air against his skin could be mistaken for his homeland if he blurred the differences in his mind enough.

However the usual accuracy of this routine was comically thwarted today.

Fate spat in Peter's eye, or rather his toothbrush, when said utensil was found in the mouth of Bobby, who despite the Russian's many complaints about modesty, was walking around with a certain lack of clothing (i.e none).

Peter's eyes widened so hard they hurt, and his chest clenched fatally. "_Kakogo cherta! _That is MY toothbrush Bobby!"

Bobby rubbed his face with a grunt. "Huh, I was wondering why there were only ever two brushes in here."

Feeling rather sick to his stomach, Peter was thankful that he had at least brushed them last night, though who knew what unknown pathogens now lurked between his gums.

Peter was a methodical person, who believed that aimlessness and a lack of structure was the cause of all evil. When things were not so, or he did not know what was about to happen, he felt vulnerable, and everyone who knew him well knew that an agitated Peter was _not _a good thing, especially in Danger Room sessions.

So it was natural that Peter had a plan for this particular day that required more…finesse, as it were.

Because today was a Thursday.

Which meant school; and lunch break; and after lunch break…art class.

With a Miss Giselle Kraus.

_Gulp!_

He wasn't exactly certain that their little rendezvous before had actually happened. Peter had been trying to catch clues the next few days feverishly, but the two rarely saw each other. Initially that would have been attributed to the fact that he was avoiding the Howard girl, John and therefore Giselle, however after much sleuthing and hinting at Kitty to her whereabouts (her incessant winking and nudging was more than embarrassing) he had found out that the main reasons for not seeing Giselle out of lessons was due to training sessions with Scott, frequent visits to the Professor for reasons Kitty refused to let slip, and that his crush seemed to have a habit of disappearing outside to an unknown location.

Peter mentally halted at the thought, stubbing his toe on the bathroom door with a surprised yelp. It was so ...official to think of Giselle like that, as a _crush,_ a bit too informal for his taste.

Admittedly, he had had crushes before; Rogue was very endearing, as was her accent, though they now had a firm friendship; when he walked past a good looking female, he like any other male, he would bristle a little, and stand a little taller. He was even egoistically proud when he heard his little sister's best friend lament about how good looking he was (though a scowl was brought forth when said sibling told her about the time he ran naked in the snow singing). While the love was unrequited, it did make Peter overly courteous to the younger girl.

It was hard to class Giselle as a crush because his feelings felt so very foreign. His ears grew hot; his abdomen tightened harshly and for some reason, so did the palms of his feet. Rather than a heightened awareness of standing to attention as one did when under observation from the opposite sex, with Giselle irritating sensations like a parched throat and quickness of breath (or lack of) became noticeable to him. With others, the simple routine of manners such as a charming smile, opening of doors and other things his _mat' _and _sestrenka _had badgered into him. With Giselle it was a constant battle of having to count how long eye contact should be held until she gave him a quizzical look, or how frequently he blinked (he was now convinced he'd need eye drops).

She was unfamiliar territory, an enigma that rattled the normalcy in his life that he maintained, despite being a mutant.

And so, Peter's plan of survival was to be prepared. However, that did work out too well.

Stepping into the shower he patted around the waterproof shelves until he found his bar of soap, only to discover that it was now no more than a tiny sliver that abruptly disappeared from view down the plughole. He growled and stared longingly, before setting to work with Evan's bar of mint soap that made his nostrils sting.

Once he was thoroughly clean, he donned his towel and left the bathroom to pick out some clothes and turn on the iron. Bobby was sitting at the end of Evan's bed with tired eyes, blindly poking his shoulder for amusement. Peter shook his head with a fond smile and set about finding his razor and shaving cream. Usually, he would use the same plain one he did everyday, but not _today _of all days.

He unwrapped the wooden pot of cream that he had only used twice before. It smelt of vanilla, sour berries and had a muted magenta shade to it like a wilting rose.

With the luxury of time, Peter leisurely lathered it on and methodically pressed the razor down to his skin, adding pressure on the firmer, wider planes of skin and washing the blades each and every time they left his skin. Once he was finished, he gingerly rinsed the bubbles away and patted his face, before turning this way and that to ensure not a hint of grain could be seen.

Choosing clothes was a greater occasion today as well, especially since it was _Giselle_. She seemed to exude elegance, and when he did catch her in more laid back clothing, they were _always _ironed and clean.

As much as he liked this about her, this did add a certain amount of pressure to live up to.

Peter pulled up his black trousers and donned a silver buckled belt that prevented them from falling below his hips. He was always very careful of this every since he realized that for all the time his roommates and himself were happy to look at a girl's behind, they probably did the exact same thing back, though were perhaps stealthier.

He ironed along the seams of his royal blue shirt, careful of the cuffs and collar, before applying a starch spray and tucking it into his waist band. His leather brown slacks had been previously polished the night before, so he went to retrieve a pair of socks. He spent several minutes counting how man buttons he should leave open at the top, before leaving the third one half buttoned so that gravity and friction could decide later for him.

Unfortunately after 5 minutes of rustling through his dresser, Peter had to proclaim that he didn't have any match washed pairs of socks.

"_Deystvitel'no, pochemu imenno segodnya ?!"_

"Dude, use English! As sexy as your tongue is, we can't understand it!" Bobby hollered.

Evan sniggered, "That's not the only reason his tongue's sexy." His head plopped back into the pillow.

Catching on with a lecherous grin, Bobby added, "Giselle's a _luuuuucky_ girl!"

Peter groaned and gave them both withering looks. "Why me?"

"Aww, common, Pete, you know you love us!" Bobby patted him on the back before reaching for a pair of socks. When he pulled on the first black sock, Peter yelled, causing him to tumble onto the floor with a loud bump.

"Bobby what are you doing with _my _socks!"

"Hey hey hey, these are MY socks!"

"WHAT! Since when!"

"Since…whenever I bought them, I dunno, I just know, kay?"

"NO, no, not okay!" Peter jabbed a finger at bobby's chest, causing him to rub the spot and pout. "Those are _my _socks! As in, they're for _my _feet, not yours!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"I wrote my name on the label!"

"Dude…who does that?" Evan interrupted.

"Yeah, who-" Bobby frantically bobbed his head when Peter reacted to what he said, "Err, I mean, _I_ do, Evan, got a problem with that?"

"Bobby I swear if you don't give my socks back, you will be my primary target in training tonight!"

Bobby gulped with wide eyes and raised his hands in submission. "Look- hey would you stop that? Pete-WOW! Stop touching my feet you iron pervert!"

After successfully dislodging the left sock from Bobby's offending foot, Peter held it high above his head and tried not to laugh at the Iceman's attempts to jump up and reach the sock. Evan had less restraint, and was holding his torso up with the momentum of his loud snorts.

"Pete! Common, man! This is unfair!"

"It is not _my _fault that you are so little…_lollypop…"_

Everyone froze at the last word for a painful silence as Bobby choked with a horrified expression. Peter grinned manically at his checkmate. "Rogue comes up with the most charming nicknames for her _Mr Snowman_, no?"

Evan's eyes swelled with tears, the pain of his shaking laughter growing too much.

Safe to say, Peter reclaimed his socks fairly easily afterwards.

At breakfast, Peter had another dilemma, however. _Usually, _his would consist on porridge, a piece of fruit and water or occasionally toast if there wasn't a large cue for the toaster and butter. But today, one of the younger students (little 9 year old Annie whose hair changed colour depending on her mood) had bumped into him, causing Peter to drop the remaining oats on the floor. Of course, he insisted to little Annie that it wasn't fault, and cleaned it up after humoring her with a big 'teddy bear' hug. He also spun her around a bit, because everyone knew to watch their backs when her hair turned _that shade _of black with red streaks. But by that time, the other students had zipped in like scavengers and had claimed all the other foods he would usually like to eat for breakfast.

With a sigh, Peter went to the fruit bowl, only to realize that a single large green apple sat on its own. He picked it up with a defeated sigh. A few months ago, he would have happily bitten into his prize, but now this would not be the case. _Everyone _knew that Giselle loved green apples to the extent that even Scott (being the healthy nut that he was) had told her to branch out to other foods or her teeth would rot from all the citric acid. While Peter highly doubted Giselle would be in danger of that, he had fondly observed the way she comically sighed with closed eyes as she ate this particular fruit. Imagine how sad she would be without it to start her day!

For a moment, Peter considered waiting for her to come down and give it to her. He imagined her wide eyes and strong blush with a schoolboy grin. However Peter quickly pushed that idea away, when the phrase the Americans said, 'overkill' came into his head. He gave a big sigh, directing his breath onto the apple, before polishing the side with his sleeve and putting it back in the fruit bowl.

The rest of the day was agonizingly slow; even the pace of people in the corridor seemed fitfully lethargic to Peter, as he zipped in and out of the way. Unbeknownst to the Russian, most people had noticed his behavior; Evan and Bobby with strong amusement, the students with confusion, then also amusement when they asked his roommates and their answer was the name of G. Kraus. Erin and John flipped their fingers at Peter's retreating back when he flew through the door they were next to in a daze, though they didn't think much of it. Jean Grey quirked an eyebrow, but after a brief telepathic conversation with a humming Professor, she also gave a lopsided smile that softened the hearts of both Scott and a watching Logan.

Finally, Peter had reached the marathon's final red tape, for Ms. Monroe's art class had finally arrived. He paused at the door, first and eagerly early, ran a hand through his cropped hair and made his way inside to his usual seat. As soon as his backpack touched the ground, a horrible churning feeling whirled in his gut and a million negative scenarios played out behind his furrowing brow. What if she forgot? What if she only agreed out of pity? Or she regretted it? What if she was waiting for him elsewhere? Did he mention meeting beforehand?

Peter's brain furiously buzzed as he replayed their meeting again and again, so enraptured was he that he jumped in his chair when Rogue's gloved hands nudged his arm.

"Ah! Rogue, oh, it's you…"

Rogue raised a knowing eyebrow and cocked her hip with a hand resting on it. "Ya don' say? An' who did'ja expect it ta' be, suga'?"

Peter refused to meet her gaze, deeming the emptying of his bag more important. "Nobody!"

"Uh-huh." Rogue took her bag a few seats away, before going to the drying racks and retrieving the half finished painting she started last lesson. As she went by, she tapped peter again, her large silver cross dangling over her collarbone. "Oh look, _nobody's _at the door."

Peter's head snapped up immediately to take in the sight of Giselle flitting into the class. Her brown hair was French braided down her back and swung behind her hips with each step. She actually wore jeans today, though they were a rusting green colour and were tucked into homely brown sandal wedges. Her torso was covered with a skin coloured tank top, with a sleeveless lace one of the same colour on top, though you could make out the thin black strap of her bra underneath. Thick brass wristbands bounced in the light, while her nails tapped against the binder of her art book. Her other hand held the remains of the core of an apple, which was swiftly finished in the next bite and swallowed behind plush lips that were painted a flashing red shade.

Peter gulped, captured by the smile she sent his way as she settled into the seat next to his without a word.

_**Mat' – mother **_

_**Kakogo cherta!**_** – what the hell!**

_**Sestrenka –**_** sister**

_**Deystvitel'no, pochemu imenno segodnya ?!" – **_**really, why today of all days?!**

**I have no excuse for my absence, apart from exams, and oh yeah, exams blah blah blah. **

**Pity party, I know. **

**Anyway…Guess whose back! I'm back! Tell a friend! I thank you for your patience, follows, favoriting, ect. **

**I am sincerely so grateful for all the reviews and comments I've been getting! It's great to see that people are still interested in the story, and makes me feel all fuzzy inside! Hee hee!**

**Soooooo another POV for Peter! I decided to shake things up as you can see, I thought the guy's relationship need a bit more light. I'm sorry for the lack of Giselle's roommate in her head and her actually roommates, but they'll be back next time! **

**Ohhh! And thanks for the reviewers who were giving suggestions about this and that! Fear not, I've made note of them with my solutions and such, so please don't hesitate to do so or ask Qs ect. Of course, I would say don't be a meanie with pointless insulting comments, but I haven't come across any, so I won't dwell on that.**

**Farewell! Ta Ta For Now! **

**Renzin xo**


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